


Breaking x Making Promises

by corns



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angry Gon Freecs, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Bro Zushi Roll, Bisexual Gon Freecs, Bisexual Retz, Break Up, Coming Out, Complicated Relationships, Crying Killua Zoldyck, Embarrassed Killua Zoldyck, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, F/M, Feat. Killua as the Strong Independent Woman We All Need, Gay Killua Zoldyck, Getting Back Together, Heavy Angst, House Party, Humor, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealous Gon Freecs, Killua Don't Need No Man, Killua and Knuckle are Bros, M/M, Makeup, Minor Killua Zoldyck/Knuckle Bine, Minor Killua Zoldyck/Retz, Nonbinary Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Overprotective Omokage, Polyamorous Character, Polyamorous Gon Freecs, Possessive Gon Freecs, Post-Break Up, Protect Zushi please, Retz and Killua Become Bros, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Suffering, The angsty sequel literally no one asked for, Touch-Starved, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Wholesome Retz, guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-07-11 11:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corns/pseuds/corns
Summary: Eight months into dating, Killua figures nothing would change the state of their perfect relationship. He couldn't be more wrong.When Gon's high school sweetheart, Retz, transfers to their college, Gon's pitched into a dilemma. How could it be possible to love two completely different people? Seeking closure, Gon ends his relationship with Killua only to discover that he had made a grave mistake. Killua and Gon will find out just how difficult it is to fall out of love.Will they be able to stay separated, or will Retz step in with a solution to fix all of their problems?[Sequel to No Filter x Serial Dating, but not necessary to read NFxSD]





	1. The Bitch Is Back

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Filter x Serial Dating](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773098) by [corns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corns/pseuds/corns). 



> Nobody:
> 
> Me: So how about I fuck shit up? Yeah?

It all happened approximately a month after Gon Freecss, star running back for the Hunters, performed a roundoff front handspring using a rival linebacker’s big, beefy shoulders as a spring, only to snap his collarbone on impact. That in itself would have been both impressive and horrifying to witness, except everyone in the stadium saw it. It was, perhaps, the most dramatic exit a football player could have taken for a season when the season hadn’t even started.

But that on its own wasn’t where shit hit the fan. Gon’s broken collarbone was a tragedy, yes, and it would be over two months before Gon could hit the field again, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Not to Killua, anyway.

No, shit hit the fan on their eight month anniversary, at the very start of the semester when classes were back in session and Killua was just moving into his new apartment.

Zushi had been standing on the couch like he had just conquered it. Stance wide, hand on his hip, the other poised to wipe away nonexistent sweat from his forehead. The apartment came with the couch. 

He leapt from the cushions, his acid-washed jeans rolled up to his calves. “Do you ever feel, like…” he started, scratching at his summer buzzcut and looking approximately thirty skin tones darker than he had in the spring.

“Like a plastic bag? Drifting through the wind?” Killua said, completely monotone.

Zushi slumped and rolled his eyes. “ _No_ , I mean, like… do you ever feel like something  _bad_ is about to happen?  _Foreboding_ —is that the right word?”

Killua stared at Zushi from across the living room. It was, perhaps, the most ominous thing he had heard all summer, which was really saying something considering he had spent his summer back in Portland with his family. Illumi was the god of the foreboding aesthetic.

“You’re probably just sensing the start of the semester,” Killua said. 

Zushi hummed like he didn’t quite believe it. He pouted, shook his head, and insisted, “No, I don’t think that’s it. I’ve been feeling that since last semester ended.”

“Yeah, Calc II is about to fuck us both up the ass,” Killua said. He had heard horror stories already from the TAs, namely Kurapika. Kurapika had been their TA in OChem and had suffered with them, in spirit. Calc II would be another nightmare entirely, and the mere mention of it had them both shuddering.

But Calc II wasn’t what Zushi sensed, and it certainly wasn’t where shit would hit the fan. This was a different grade of shit. This was…  _personal_ .

And then, Killua felt it. It was like a smack to the back of his head and the doorbell going off. Zushi startled, a hand over his heart, and Killua cursed under his breath. 

“God, that better not be Illumi,” Killua huffed. Illumi had helped move Killua to and from the dorms and had accompanied the moving truck trip from Northern Cali to the San Francisco area. The last thing he wanted, though, was for his older brother to  _linger_ around and infect the place with bad vibes.

He marched up to the door and opened it a crack. He peered through to the foyer, to the window on the front door. There, waiting among the mailboxes, he found a surprising guest. 

“Knuckle?” Killua said, and the hulking football player perked up at the sight of Killua’s head peeking out of the door. 

Killua turned back inside and held the door open for Zushi to see. He pointed to Knuckle and said, “Did you give him our address?”

“What? No, why would I?” Zushi said. 

Knuckle started hammering on the glass door, shouting, “ _Let me in! Code Red! Code Red!_ ”

“I don’t know what Code Red is!” Killua shouted back.

Knuckle started slamming the whole of his palm against the glass door and imitating an opera singer. Killua’s ears would bleed within a matter of seconds if he let that man continue terrorizing the apartment complex, and he really did  _not_ want to be responsible for the medical bills of all the other tenants. 

He stomped out and Zushi took position at the threshold where he propped the door open with a sock stuffed with beans. Killua threw his arms up at Knuckle, who went on singing like a madman until Killua unlocked the door and swung it open. 

Knuckle fell towards him, gasping, “Oh thank God. Killua—I gotta talk to you, I—Wait, what’s that right there?”

“Where?” Killua said, following Knuckle’s line of sight to the carpet, to the door, to Zushi’s feet.

Knuckle pointed to the sock full of beans.

Zushi gasped and said, “Oh! Oh, that’s our doorstopper, Hank.”

Knuckle put a hand to his chest and breathed, “Hank is breathtaking. Really, I can’t breathe. I ran all the way here from Sigma.”

Knuckle doubled over his knees and let out a low, slow whistle. Killua stared at him standing there in the foyer of the apartment complex. It was a ratty, brick building with 70s printed carpets, but Killua and Zushi couldn’t find it in their paychecks to care. Whatever the case, their apartment complex was a far throw from Sigma Alpha, the infamous party frat on Frat Row, and the exact building Gon Freecss lived in now as a sophomore.

Frat guys weren’t given the rooming application until sophomore year, when they declared their dedication to the fraternity and proved themselves as members. Gon was far beyond that at this point, especially after having  _lived_ in Sigma Alpha for all of winter break. He spent most days there anyway and, likewise, so did Killua. 

Sigma Alpha was more than just a far throw. It was over two miles away from Zushi and Killua’s new apartment. 

“You ran  _all that way?_ ” Zushi said.

“Don’t act so impressed. He’s a football player—he can handle it,” Killua said. 

“Gee, thanks,” Knuckle said, straightening up. He splayed his hands out and said, “But we’ve got a  _major_ issue. Code Red shit.”

“I still don’t know what the fuck that is,” Killua said.

“Allow me to enlighten you,” he said, exasperated. He clutched his hands to Killua’s shoulders in a viselike grip. He ducked his head, eyes closed in agony, before he looked up and stole Killua’s breath away with the ferocity of his stare. “The bitch is back.”

“The Bitch” could be more accurately described as Killua’s latest enemy. He acquired several enemies in his lifetime (his family, for example, excluding Alluka and his father). Killua was not a stranger to such dynamics. In fact, he thrived in them.

At least he did, until The Bitch made her presence known.

Knuckle dragged Killua into the apartment where boxes were half-unpacked and really, the only shit that was accessible happened to be the furniture that was already there before Killua and Zushi came through. Knuckle sat Killua on the couch and, grabbing Zushi by the shoulders, did the same for Zushi. 

Zushi bounced on the cushion and looked pointedly at Killua, eyebrow raised. 

Killua shrugged. “The only bitch I know is my mom,” he said.

Zushi gave a half-shrug as if to say, “ _Understandable_ .”

Knuckle clapped his hands so loudly, it sounded like a gunshot. Killua and Zushi straightened, their attention focused on Knuckle and Knuckle alone. 

Knuckle pushed his hands through his hair with a shaky sigh before saying, “I don’t know how to put this.”

“You ran two miles to put this into words. Come on buddy, you can do this,” Killua said like he was coaxing a dog. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna say it,” Knuckle said. “You know I love Gon, right? And I know  _you_ love Gon, right?”

“I mean, duh,” Killua said with a snort. He shifted uncomfortably and gave yet another shrug, saying, “What’s this about?”

“And we all know Gon loves you!”

“Dude, out with it! Come on,” Zushi said, snapping his fingers.

Knuckle pranced around uncomfortably before spinning back around, arms out. “It’s—It’s  _Gon’s ex_ !”

Killua narrowed his eyes and thought,  _The guy’s got, like, twenty exes_ . It didn’t seem like that big of a deal, even though Knuckle was staring at him like this ex had some significance. Killua gestured for him to continue.

Knuckle groaned and cried, “ _Thee_ Ex! You know, the one who… The one he had to break up with because they couldn’t do long distance! They dated for, like,  _five years_ .”

_Five years_ . 

Killua’s heart plummeted to his stomach. But he could handle this. He solidified his expression in an icy exterior that would only thaw if someone took a blowtorch to his face.

“Whoa,  _what?_ ” Zushi squeaked. “He’s—I’ve never heard of this ex. I thought he only had flings?”

“Yeah, she’s the reason I made him that Tinder account! You weren’t there, guys, holy shit. Gon was a fucking  _wreck_ all through summer training. I’ve never seen the guy so stone cold. I didn’t even think he’d ever be a teddy bear until, ya know, Tinder happened and he started dating again! The guy never used to talk and he’d skip out on all our parties and you know the Captain—he’s especially stern on on boarding the freshies so, I dunno, I took a liking to Gon! And then he told me about his ex and I’ve always been the type for rebounds, hence… Tinder.”

Knuckle grimaced at the look of horror on Zushi’s face. Zushi turned to Killua, who stared, flat-faced, at Knuckle. Slowly, Killua came to the realization that his nails were digging into his thighs through the fabric of his jeans. Stiffly, he unclenched his fingers and said, “What, uh… What is she doing here, exactly?”

“She’s transferring!” Knuckle shrieked. “You gotta help me keep my man Gon  _focused_ on the  _D_ , alright? Don’t give him a chance to look at her twice, okay? If he goes down that spiral again I don’t know if he’ll come back again. And—And, dude, where are you going?”

Killua went to where his phone sat atop a stack of boxes. He stared at it for a moment, hands tense at his sides. He brought a finger up to his lips and considered his hesitation as a mechanism of doubt. Was this him not trusting Gon again? 

Tinder had its own spiral of complications and bad memories. His reaction, Gon’s dedication—it had spurred on months of regret. Killua had laid awake in bed thinking about it more times than he can count, wasting  _hours_ upon  _hours_ of  _wishing he hadn’t done that_ . He shouldn’t have degraded Gon’s trust in him like that. He shouldn’t have made himself emotionally unavailable to Gon during times when Gon felt weak about his flamboyant attraction. 

It took ages for Gon to stop censoring himself. Killua hadn’t realized it until Gon apologized once for slipping up at the gym when he looked at a stranger walking past and commented under his breath, “Damn, that ass is looking  _fine as Hell!_ ” Killua had laughed, but a second later Gon had slapped a hand over his mouth and said, “Oh, shoot, sorry. You probably don’t want to hear that.”

Killua had been careful about his own slip-ups. It was easier, though, because Gon hadn’t given him a reason to doubt.

Until Killua stared at his phone, sitting atop the boxes.

“I don’t have enough information,” he said, turning back to Knuckle. “How did you find out that she’s transferring?”

Knuckle stared at him, eyes wide, brow furrowed, and mouth ajar. Killua was just as frustrated, though, and ground his teeth together, his feet firm on the ground. He wouldn’t jump to conclusions again. 

Besides, he made a promise to Gon. He’d respect Gon’s wishes, whatever they may be. It didn’t matter if Killua doubted the guy, even if he  _was_ an idiot. They were both idiots, in their own ways, but Gon’s heart was too malleable to shatter. It was far easier to flatten it, though, and Killua had done that back in San Diego. They spent eight entire months inflating it again. 

“Dude, I tell you the love of his life is back in town and you’re not, I don’t know,  _pissed?_ ” Knuckle said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed as Hell, but I’m not about to ring the alarm again,” Killua said. He learned his lesson the first time. “I need more information.”

“I don’t have time to fill you in,” Knuckle said, panicked. He cursed as he threw his hands into his hair and said, “Honestly, Gon was probably right behind me when I came over here. I forgot my phone so I can’t check, but—”

Killua stalked towards Knuckle with every intention of strangling the man. He had the  _balls_ to come to  _Killua’s_ apartment with half of the facts? This man had Killua’s heart in a goddamn iron fist and not  _knowing_ was gutting him. He needed to know everything—the state of his mind depended on it. 

Gon was an integral part of his life. He couldn’t overlook something as emotionally compromising to Gon as his bitch of an ex-girlfriend. 

Knuckle cowered with a shriek as Killua jumped him and Zushi cried out in alarm. Killua grabbed Knuckle by his hair, his legs around Knuckle’s waist, his feet trying to take Knuckle out by the knees. He hooked his forearm under Knuckle’s chin and  _yanked_ .

“You can’t defeat me!” Knuckle screamed. “I live in a frat house! I was made for tousling!”

“I’ll fuck you up, Bine!” Killua snarled. “Where did you hear about The Bitch?! Where!”

Knuckle screamed like a little girl as he went down to his knees, bucking his head forward. Killua jolted, his center of balance flinging up to his shoulders and over Knuckle’s head. With a curse, he fell awkwardly on his shoulder, grappling for purchase on Knuckle’s arms. His legs crashed into a plastic box and he cursed.  _That_ would leave a bruise, no doubt about it.

“Wait,” Zushi said, and both Knuckle and Killua stilled. Killua peered up at Zushi, upside down and disoriented, as Zushi said, “If Knuckle ran all the way here, how’s Gon gonna get here? He can’t run with that sling—”

Killua looked at Knuckle, who looked at Zushi, who looked at Killua. Killua scrambled to his feet and went to the living room window where he could see the street and the edge of the stoop. Zushi leant up against Killua to see, and together they witnessed the image of Gon cruising down the street with his left arm in a blue-and-white sling and the other on the handlebars of an electric scooter.

“He looks like a fucking dork,” Killua said, stunned. He turned back to Knuckle with a jab of his finger and hissed, “I’ll deal with you later, Bine, mark my words.”

As Killua marched to the front door, Knuckle chased after him, crying, “Hold onto him! Never let him go!” He even went so far as to get on his knees while Killua was shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers. Knuckle put his hands up in a praying position until Killua kicked his wrists, grabbed his keys, and left the apartment. 

He took a second out in the foyer to inhale sharply and exhale, slow and steady.

He considered his options as he left through the two sets of doors to the stoop. Knuckle gave him one advantage: Time. If Gon had told him, Killua was certain he would have been running on adrenaline to keep his emotions in check. His hands were already shaking, though, but he was over the hump. He could think rationally now even if Gon couldn’t.

What he knew:

Gon had an ex-girlfriend of five years that he failed to mention. To them, five years was significant. Hell, they were only nineteen and stupid. Five years encompassed nearly an entire quarter of their lifespan—all of high school and  _then_ some. What did she really mean to Gon if he never mentioned her?

_Maybe he never mentioned her because he still cares about her. Maybe it hurts to talk about her_ , he thought as he took the stairs down to the walkway.

Gon looked up from his phone where he had been paying for the scooter ride. Killua thought of two things simultaneously:  _Wow, he looks pathetic in that sling_ , and  _Wow, he looks so hot today_ . Maybe it was Killua’s affinity for muscle tanks, but Gon’s physique in and of itself was more tempting than a bar of rich, sugary milk chocolate. 

“H-Hey, Killua—” Gon started, voice squeaky and panicked. 

_Oh shit, this is bad_ , Killua thought.

One disadvantage he had from Knuckle’s confession: Killua would be taking Gon off guard, and that wasn’t good. Gon only ever got squeaky when he was on the verge of tears. 

_First thing’s first_ , Killua decided. He closed the distance between them and, wary of the sling over Gon’s shoulder, pulled him into a hug. Because even if Gon didn’t want to be with him, the guy was still an avid fan of platonic hugs and could really use one right about now.

After tensing for a second, Gon melted into it. He pushed his eyes into Killua’s shoulder and, with his one good arm, clutched at the back of Killua’s shirt, his phone still in hand. And then, when he breathed in, Killua felt it shaking through him from the arms he held loosely around Gon’s back. Gon’s breath whistled out into a barely restrained sob that had Killua’s heart twisting in his chest.

“I-I don’t know what to do—” Gon gasped.

“Well, first off,” Killua said, swallowing hard, “we could sit down and you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

Gon nodded against Killua’s shoulder. With that settled, Killua took a step back and went to the edge of the apartment complex property. The building itself was raised up on a hill, and on the incline’s grassy lawn, Killua found a spot to sit facing the street. Gon kept his eyes down, his eyes red and focused on his phone. 

The scooter chimed down the sidewalk. Scooter ride complete. Gon pocketed his phone in his cargo shorts before collapsing next to Killua on the grass and slumping back so that his eyes were on the clouds. 

It was another cool, early autumn day when Killua and Gon sat on the grass that day. Killua preferred the cold to the heat, but he couldn’t stop shivering. He clasped his arms around his knees, jaw tense and teeth clenched. 

He needed to keep his shit together. Everything was up to Gon—he made sure of that at the Greyhound bus station—and Killua wouldn’t regret a damn thing.

Still… why did his chest hurt so much? Why was he suppressing tears?

“Knuckle told me your ex transferred,” Killua said.

Gon put his forearm over his eyes. Killua saw the motion of it through the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at Gon. He swallowed hard again as Gon whispered, “I love her so fucking much.”

“You still do? Or you did?” Killua asked.

Gon sat up with more resolve, but his eyes were still glassy and red. Gon was looking at him. Killua ducked his head and picked at the gap in his jeans where his knees poked out. 

“I—I don’t know how to describe it,” Gon confessed, quiet. “Because I know I love you—I love  _you_ , Killua—”

“We haven’t even been dating for a year,” Killua said, as if that would change how Gon felt. How he felt. He wished he could call himself a hormonal teenager with a romanticism complex, but that just wasn’t the case anymore. He’d always be hormonal, sure, but he was rational about it. The way he felt about Gon was rational.

“The way I love you is, like…  _explosive_ .”

Killua rolled his eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, bitterly, as he said, “We aren’t bombs, Gon…”

“I can’t words today,” Gon whined, and Killua smiled down at his lap. “It’s  _powerful_ and  _mature_ and… it makes me feel independent and capable. And… with her…”

He rubbed at his hair. Killua caught himself staring at Gon’s profile, now that Gon was no longer staring at him. Gon’s lips wavered as he whispered, “I never wanted to break up with her, but I can’t—I’m too emotionally weak. I can’t—I can’t  _do_ long distance. She wanted to try but I feel miserable when we’re apart.”

“Still?”

Gon turned to Killua. He hadn’t been keeping track of his tenses, but Killua wasn’t sure why he kept questioning it. Gon was too honest to bother making euphemisms with the past-tense. 

“I still love her,” he confessed. “But it’s different with her. With her, it’s… soft and enduring. We are  _sturdy—_ but she is, like, rubber. It doesn’t break, it just bends and morphs with time, so I can still feel it.” He clutched a hand to his chest and sighed. “We started dating in middle school—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Killua sighed. He really didn’t want to hear it. He cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, and said, “Tell me what you want to do.”

“What—What do you mean?” Gon said, dropping his hand from over his heart. 

Killua shrugged like he couldn’t care less and said, “Has she moved on? Are you gonna get back together with her? What’s it gonna be?”

“I-I don’t know,” he confessed. “I want you to tell me—” His voice broke. He brought his hand up to his lips as Killua stared at him and pieced together what it was Gon wanted to hear.  _He wants me to tell him to stay, to heel like some goddamn dog_ .

Killua shook his head. “I’m keeping my promise. You decide.”

“Killua—”

“ _No_ . I’m not telling you what to do. This is your decision,” Killua said. 

Gon was staring at him like some kicked puppy, and it made Killua want to actually kick him. Instead, he turned his head away and stared down the street, eyes squinting against the sun. 

He wanted Gon to stay, he really did, but he didn’t want Gon to  _regret_ choosing him. That was where Killua’s dilemma was. Whoever this girl was, she was important to Gon. Gon wouldn’t stay away from her, but if Killua said the word he wouldn’t advance. He’d be nothing more than friends with her, and Killua didn’t want Gon to regret making that decision.

He wanted Gon to regret choosing his ex-girlfriend over Killua.

He narrowed his eyes.  _I really am more spiteful than I thought_ , he mused, suddenly curious. He brought a finger to his lips, pouting, brow furrowed. It wasn’t that he wanted Gon to suffer—they had both suffered enough as it was—and it was too late to wish that Gon’s ex never transferred.

“What’s she like?” Killua asked.

“Wh-What?”

“You heard me,” Killua hissed, turning to face Gon. There were tears on his lashes as he sniffed and looked away, rubbing his wrist against his eyes. 

“I-I can’t tell if you’re serious—”

“I am,” Killua said. “If you care about her, I want to respect that. I just want to know whether or not you’re sniffling over some basic sorority bitch.”

Gon laughed despite his current state. He put his hand down and sighed, “She isn’t—Retz is  _not_ a basic bitch. She’s majoring in marine biology, but she couldn’t afford to program here last year, so she finished her gen eds at the community college back home. Sh-She loves football, but she used to play soccer, a-and… she’s a  _really_ good swimmer. God, Retz is brilliant though—last summer she interned in Hawaii and she loves to surf. She taught me how to surf when we were kids—her whole family’s really into it. All through grade school our families would go to the beach in the summer and—Oh! Oh, this one time, we were twelve and her brother caught me sneaking into her bedroom through the window. She used to have the bedroom next to the fire escape, but after that—”

Killua listened as Gon talked about his childhood friend and realized, quickly, that Gon and Retz’ break would always be temporary. If anything, Tinder, all of those dates—none of them were rebounds.

They were all just distractions. 

But Gon  _did_ love him, didn’t he?

Killua sighed as he propped his cheek on his hand. Talking about Retz seemed to make Gon feel better, so he let the guy ramble for as long as it took for Killua to make his decision. Selfishly, he knew that he needed this out of Gon’s system. Gon and Retz’ breakup wasn’t closure—it was a break. Gon needed closure, that much was certain to Killua.

“Gon,” Killua said. 

Gon paused, turning to look at him with those big, amber eyes. His eyes were no longer glassy. Killua could feel himself losing his grip.

He cleared his throat and said, “At that Sigma party, when we argued in the kitchen—Do you remember that?”

Gon nodded.

“What I said still stands. But if you want my opinion about this, I think you should go to her,” he said. 

He hoped Gon knew what he meant so he wouldn’t have to say it out loud. All those months ago, Killua had made himself abundantly clear: That he wouldn’t fuck with guys who still had an active dating profile. That day Killua came out as a monogamist —he never thought he’d have to come out as one, but there they were.

“C-Can we still be friends?” Gon asked. 

Killua jolted and covered it up by pushing to his feet. He covered his shaking hands in his jean pockets and willed himself to breathe past the spike of adrenaline that demanded that he  _run_ . Eight months ago, he was done running, but now? It felt more like survival now. 

With a deep sigh, he tried to smile and it came out as a pained grimace. “Goodbye, Gon,” he said, and started for the stairs. 

Gon was on his feet in an instant, though, and Killua hurried his steps as Gon chased after him, saying, “Killua—! Killua, please, I want to hang out with you, I want you, too—”

“There is no ‘ _too_ ’ with me,” Killua snapped, jerking back around. He caught Gon on the last step, staring up at him. Gon had the  _balls_ to look  _scared_ and Killua would have slapped him if Gon didn’t already have a broken collarbone. “Please respect that, Gon. I want to keep my promise to you, so fucking  _do it!_ ”

“Killua—”

“ _Say it_ , Gon!”

“Alright!” Gon screamed, throwing his hand down. He recovered, heaving, and said, “Okay, I’ll be with Retz.”

Killua crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. “And?”

Gon opened his mouth and nothing came out. He looked down and whispered, “I- I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.”

Killua nodded, satisfied. He turned away again and left, and he didn’t hear Gon’s footsteps behind him. He let himself back into the complex, quietly, and didn’t look back. His throat felt like someone was squeezing his esophagus as he stepped over the threshold of his apartment and was faced with the image of Zushi and Knuckle at the living room window, staring at him. 

Killua said nothing as he dropped his keys on the table and went to his room. 

It didn’t feel like his room, not really. It was empty, plain, and half-furnished. His bed didn’t have a frame yet, so he collapsed without a bounce and moaned, “ _Ow_ …” into the white foam mattress pad. There, he listened to Zushi and Knuckle’s muffled conversation down the hall. Zushi saw Knuckle out the back door and, after a moment, there came a knock on Killua’s doorframe. 

Killua closed his eyes and pretended to be sleeping, but he could feel hot tears collecting at the corners of his eye as Zushi joined him on the mattress. A second later, Zushi dropped a tissue box a foot away from Killua’s head. He laughed a little—Zushi always knew what he needed—but the laugh came out as a pained sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been cruising on this fic so I'll be updating this one every day! :D


	2. Bitch-Ass Brunch Fest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grind: Suffering, Calc II, and Starbucks. If only Killua could do all three NOT in public.

Killua didn’t see Gon, well,  _at all_ . At least for the first month, and it certainly wasn’t enough time to recover. Quite honestly, Calc II became his saving grace. It was easier to distract himself with the hellfire that was the start of the semester, but Homecoming was coming up and that brought on an entirely new affair.

Killua had been avoiding football like the plague. Gon was no longer on the field, but that didn’t matter. The entire sport was now infected with the idea and image of  _Gon Freecss_ . He and Zushi used to watch the games every weekend over study sessions, but now they suffered in the quiet of their apartment, day-drinking and eating instant pudding. 

Killua opened the pantry door and surveyed their broad selection of pudding. The last time he went grocery shopping, he dedicated an entire bag and thirty dollars to instant pudding packets. Zushi didn’t know about it until he opened the pantry one day and said, “ _Holy shit balls, that’s a lot of pudding._ ”

It was, he had to agree, a lot of pudding. He was no longer a gym junkie, but running was another issue entirely. Distantly, he heard Zushi whispering to Kurapika in the living room as he popped open a pudding packet. “I think he’s training for a marathon. He runs, like, ten miles a day.”

“Maybe he is training for a marathon,” Kurapika whispered back. “I heard running is a good distraction from—”

Killua haphazardly splashed milk into a measuring cup and shouted, “I can hear you guys talking smack about me!”

“It’s not  _smack!_ It’s relevant and important information!” Kurapika shouted. “As your mother, I cannot condone ten miles a day! No less than twelve!”

“Kurapika!” Zushi cried. “You’re gonna make him keel over and die.”

Killua wandered down the hall to the living room, a bowl tucked in one arm, and a whisk in the other. He waved the whisk at those two idiots and said, “What I do on my runs is none of your business. In the apocalypse, you’re gonna need me.”

“Oh really?” Kurapika said, snickering.

“Yes really,” Killua said, smirking.

“You’re both idiots,” Zushi said, annoyed.

Killua took a seat at the coffee table, stirring his pudding into the perfect consistency. As he did, Kurapika leant over the table to fill Killua’s wine glass back up with blood red merlot. Killua thanked them and would have smiled if it didn’t feel like such a chore. He wouldn’t make himself suffer unnecessarily outside of Calc II.

He took a sip of wine and sighed.  _This_ was what he lived for, dick be damned—wine was where the business was.

“I am eternally grateful for the pudding, wine, and Calc II in my life,” Killua said. 

“Oh, are we praying now?” Kurapika said.

Zushi leant over to Kurapika, a hand covering the side of his mouth as he whispered, “I think he’s become a masochist.”

Killua scowled at Zushi, who then yelped in fear.

“I’m  _fine_ ,” Killua hissed. “My life doesn’t, didn’t, nor will it  _ever_ revolve around a significant other.”

Kurapika held their glass up to Killua, who then clinked his wine glass against theirs. “Cheers to that. We are single and proud.”

Killua took a massive swig of his drink. He didn’t care if it was wine—it was going to be in his belly before long. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about installing Tinder.”

“Don’t,” Zushi said, horrified.

“Yes,” Kurapika said. 

Zushi turned a scowl towards them. They hid their demonic grin behind the glass as Zushi hissed, “I won’t let you contaminate Killua’s wholesomeness.”

Killua laughed darkly and said, “Wholesome? Do you  _know_ me?”

“You are, though,” Zushi insisted. When Killua rolled his eyes, Zushi balled his fists up on the table and rose his voice, “No, you know what? Killua, I’m gonna be completely honest with you: You’re the best guy I know and you deserve to be happy. Is that too much to ask? I’m so—I’m so  _mad_ at Gon right now. I can’t—” 

Zushi dropped his elbows onto the table, his hands on his forehead. He dragged his fingers through his buzzcut and dropped his hands with a sigh. With a shake of his head, he said, “I’m fine. I just need this space to be pissed.”

“I know,” Kurapika said, ruffling Zushi’s nonexistent hair. Zushi smiled softly at them before looking at Killua, who had taken an interest in his wine glass again.

Killua never considered himself “ _dependent_ ” on anyone other than himself. It was what pushed him freshmen year to pay for school on his own, but being with Gon, and his father’s acceptance of his major, made his independency slip. It felt like mud now, seeping between his fingers. He craved the attention he had been so fortunate to have when Gon was around. 

Gon never made him feel lonely. Killua did that all on his own.

“It’s funny,” Killua said, quietly. He bit his lip to keep it from shaking and, when his strength returned a second later, he sighed and looked up at Zushi and Kurapika. “I think this is why I never got into relationships before. Everything was fine before I started dating, you know? Kinda makes me wish I never… I don’t know. I just sort of feel like I fucked up my independence.”

“Don’t say that,” Zushi whined, slumping onto his side so his head fell beside Killua’s knee. He gave Killua’s leg a shake and groaned, flopping onto his back. “This sucks.”

“Relationships suck,” Kurapika said. 

“Only sucky relationships and post-relationships suck,” Killua said. 

“Don’t know anything else, don’t care,” they said with a firm shake of their head. “Leorio was fine, though. Just anxiety-inducing. I’m more of a fan of the fuck buddies category.”

“Don’t you get attached?” Zushi asked, still lying down. “I don’t think I could do that.”

Kurapika tossed their braid back and huffed, “Please. I get attached to the equipment, not the package.”

Zushi sighed dreamily and said, “Words to live by.”

“Well, I’m not downloading  _Grinder_ if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Killua laughed, leaning back on his hands. He giggled at the way Kurapika rolled their eyes dramatically and went on a tangent about the app. He took idle sips from his glass and basked in the banter between his two best friends. 

_So what if I’m dependent on people?_ he thought, feeling at ease with Zushi at his side, close enough to feel the heat from Zushi’s shoulder against his knee.  _I’ll always have Zushi and Kurapika around_ .

But they couldn’t exactly follow him to private places, his walks to class, during his shifts at Starbucks. They couldn’t accompany him on his runs, in the shower, every moment he spent in his head thinking about Gon-fucking-Freecss. Before when he had done nothing but pine over a perfect stranger, it was easier. Now, he had a head full of fluff and the sound of Gon saying, “ _I love you,_ ” in so many inflections, so many ways, it made his head hurt. 

He decided that it was worse falling head over heels for an unabashed romantic.

* * *

Killua was more than grateful for the fact that his hours at Starbucks had not only diminished, but also become more flexible. His mornings were now consumed by lab and pesky formulas and his evenings were spent pulling shots at the espresso machine. Personally, no longer having cashier duty was a perk, but that didn’t mean he was anonymous to every visitor. 

Knuckle started to visit in the evenings, just an hour before closing. More often than not, he came with Uvogin, the hulking linebacker for the Hunters. Killua was still a hopeless fan of the football team’s star quarterback, so he couldn’t help but entertain Knuckle Bine’s shenanigans at the pickup counter. 

“So when’re you gonna be a manager around here?” Knuckle asked obnoxiously from the bar countertop. 

Killua rolled his eyes as he cleaned the steamer spout and tossed the towel atop the espresso machine. “I hope never. I have enough to deal with as it is,” he said as he dragged his hands down the front of his apron. 

“Are you coming to the Homecoming party?” Uvo asked, and Killua’s expression twisted up in disgust at the idea. 

It wasn’t that Killua  _hated_ partying, but he never partied  _before_ Gon. He just wanted to go back to the days when Gon didn’t encompass every part of his life, parties included. Going to Sigma Alpha on Homecoming would be an emotional death sentence because Gon was destined to be there.

Knuckle slapped Uvo on the arm and gave him a  _What the fuck, dude?_ look. Uvo shrugged. “What? Can you blame a guy? I miss having him around Sigma, you know.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Killua said, shaking his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue. He bit his lip and turned away, starting up the next drink and sliding shot glasses onto the grill. The desperate, lingering part of him wanted to know  _everything_ —Did she visit Sigma often? Was Gon happy? Does she treat him well?—but he couldn’t afford to know the answers. 

Knuckle and Uvo never stayed long, and every time they left, Killua let out a massive sigh like he had been holding his breath the entire time they visited. Every time he saw them, he couldn’t deny the way his heart stopped and he wondered if they were at Starbucks specifically to bring him news, of some kind. Selfishly, he wanted news about Gon, but rationally, he knew it wouldn’t be good for him to hear it. 

There were other downsides to working in the middle of campus, but namely, it was seeing people he knew. Mostly, they were guys from the frat house he had become used to seeing in the context of Sigma Alpha. They were all pleasant with him, despite the fact that he was no longer in the Sigma picture. 

It was on a day where he didn’t see the football regulars. 

This was to be expected—the Homecoming game was on its way so practice was in full swing. And, quite honestly, Starbucks wasn’t on a football player’s menu for carb intake. Killua once prided himself on his ability to recognize Hunters, even before he and Gon became an item, but after they started dating, more Hunters frequented his little espresso stand in the middle of campus. Killua almost wished he’d get a raise for increasing the number of customers who stopped by daily simply because Killua dated Gon, and Gon knew—and dated just about—everyone.

What wasn’t to be expected, however, was the name he heard at the cash register. 

“Retz—R, E, T, Z.”

Killua’s hands froze over the faucet. 

He turned off the water, staring at the drain as he listened to the girl’s bubbly laughter as his coworker made a joke. She had a light, wispy voice that reminded Killua of period dramas and quiet afternoons spent reading in the shade, and when he turned to look, her smile had every ounce of energy he was used to seeing on Gon.

Her dusty blonde hair was cropped short, almost too short for the ponytail at the back of her head. She walked down the length of the espresso machine to reach the pickup line. Killua’s eyes followed her the entire way because holy  _shit_ —this was the girl Gon spent his entire childhood with. This was Gon’s high school sweetheart and his coworker was handing him a cup with her name written on it. 

He stared at her long enough for both of them to realize he was staring.

The girl stared back with those wide, blue eyes and freckled cheeks.

He looked down sharply and pulled a carton of soy milk from the fridge. He felt like his joints were made of metal springs and wires as he set to work stirring green powder into the cup. 

And then, he saw her approaching at the end of the counter, her hands clasped at the corner. When he looked, he found her smiling sweetly back.

“Are you… Killua, by any chance?” she asked.

He stared at her, once again, and because he couldn’t speak, he lifted the badge on his apron. She looked at it and blushed with a short laugh. “Right, sorry. I should have checked that first. I’ve heard a lot about you from Gon.”

It didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse. “What’s he told you about?” he asked, monotonously.

“That you’re the funniest guy on the planet and make a  _mean_ latte,” she said, only to shrug and add, “But alas, espresso isn’t my gig.”

“Funny, ‘cause Gon’s addicted to espresso,” he said.

“It means he doesn’t have to make me coffee, and I don’t have to share my tea with him,” she said. Before Killua could read too into it—like the fact that  _Gon was making coffee_ —she asked, “Did he tell you we’re dating?”

Killua didn’t hesitate to check this new knowledge off on his list. It confirmed several things: 1) That she was either too insensitive to withhold that information from Gon’s ex or 2) That she didn’t  _know_ Killua was an ex. It also confirmed something crucial: That she’s assuming they still talk. This last fact canceled out the first, and thus concluded Killua’s train of thought that ended with this: That Retz believed Killua was a friend of Gon’s. 

“Yeah, I know about it,” he said. 

He handed her the cup of matcha, but she remained firmly posted at the end of the counter even as he went to start the next drink. She tipped her head to the side and said, “He said you two haven’t been talking much this semester. You know, he really speaks highly of you. You should come to the Homecoming party! It’d make him so happy if you came—”

“Partying isn’t my  _‘gig’_ ,” he said with an unseemly amount of sass. 

Somehow, she overlooked it. She sighed and, with a hand on her hip, said, “Yeah, me neither. If I’m being honest, I don’t really know how to dance. Aunt Mito used to say I had the social competency of a rice cake.”

“A Ritz Cracker makes more sense,” he said. 

She let out a startled laugh, and it was nearly contagious. Nearly. 

With a gasp, she took out a pen and said, “That reminds me! Since you and Gon are friends, I want to get to know you. Here—give me your hand.”

She held up a Sharpie, which Killua stared at like it was knife instead. He knew what she was planning, and even still, he was reaching his hand up and laying it flat on the counter so she could write something on his hand. When she was done, she turned his hand around and slapped the Sharpie in it. “There, now you write your Snapchat username on my drink, and we’re good to go,” she said. 

Killua took a moment to stare at the name on the back of his hand, “ _ritzcracker_ ”. Retz nudged her drink closer to him, peering up at him with those hopeful, steely blue eyes. He grimaced a little as he put the ink to the name ticket and wrote his username out on it. He half-wanted to miswrite it, but the guilt was already festering in his chest.

When Killua watched her leave, she paused at the door to wave at him before bounding off, ponytail bouncing behind her and her cute yellow backpack hanging low on her back.  _Of-fucking-course Gon would date a girl who wore overalls_ , he thought, bitterly, because he could never pull off overalls the way Retz did. 

So yeah, he watched her leave, and convinced himself that Retz would never, ever, actually message him.

**_Ritz Cracker_ ** 🙈 _added you!_

19:25  **RETZ:** Hi hun :D 

20:30  **KILL:** Wow that was fast

20:31  **RETZ:** I would like to personally invite you to the Homecoming party :D

20:31  **RETZ:** I need someone to teach me how to dance and Gon mentioned that you’re The Best

20:33  **KILL:** I can’t come

20:33  **RETZ:** That’s okay

20:33  **RETZ:** Maybe some other time?

20:37  **KILL:** Maybe

09:12  **RETZ:** I would like to take you to brunch

09:28  **KILL:** ???

09:28  **KILL:** I didn’t know people actually ate brunch???

09:28  **RETZ:** Lots of people eat brunch!

09:29  **RETZ:** What do you say?

09:29  **KILL:** Will you keep bothering me if I say no?

09:29  **RETZ:** Of course not

09:30  **RETZ:** I am civilized

09:32  **KILL:** Whatever

09:33  **RETZ:** Is that a yes? :D

09:35  **KILL:** Yes fine when and where is brunch

09:35  **RETZ:** 10:30 at The Dancing Goat, my treat :D

_Why did I agree to this_ ?

Killua sighed as he stood across the intersection from The Dancing Goat. He could see Retz already, just judging from that shock of yellow hair and that button nose that curved her petite profile. She was wearing a wide-brimmed sunhat with a black sash, sitting content outside in the morning sunlight. When she turned, Killua felt his heart leap to his throat in an attempt to make a getaway. He could run now, before she recognized him. He could grab his passport and sprint to Canada—

She smiled widely and put a hand up to wave. 

Killua turned away, stopped,and sighed.  _Fuck it_ , he thought and turned back to cross the road at a firm, resolute march.

As he walked up, she jumped to her feet and threw her arms out. Killua looked more or less like a worm as he tried to avoid the hug. She gave him a firm squeeze around the neck and said in that sweet, sugary voice of hers, “Hugs make everyone feel more at home.”

_Yikes_ , he thought. “Sure, I guess,” he said. He took a wide step back and said, “Does… Gon know about this?”

“Hm? Oh, no. If I told him all the people I take out to brunch, he’d never keep track,” she said. She perched her hands on the waistband of her thrifted dad jeans and said, “It is my solemn duty to introduce the world to the concept of brunch. Smaller, more frequent meals are the way to go because—”

“It’s better for your metabolism,” he finished, and she snapped her fingers with an impressed gasp. “Yeah, I know.”

As they sat at the table in the warmth of the autumn sun, Killua felt like his soul was hovering several feet above him watching him make a dumbass out of himself. He felt hypocritical even asking her if Gon knew about their Brunch Get Together—he hadn’t even mentioned meeting Retz to Zushi  _or_ Kurapika. He almost wished he would have, so they could save him if shit hit the fan.

Retz crossed her legs at the ankles and leant over the table to reach for her water bottle. After taking a sip, she said, “So you work out?”

Killua rose an eyebrow at her. Unable to censor himself when he was in full-on survival mode, he said, “Is that a pickup line?”

She giggled and said, “ _No_ . Gon mentioned that you two used to be gym buddies. And you look like you work out.”

“Not anymore,” he said, eyes back on the menu. He couldn’t even see words—all he saw were hieroglyphics. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m more of a runner now.”

“Well, if you need a running partner, I should really get back into it. What with the winter coming soon, I need to find something else to occupy my restless legs,” she said. He glanced up. He wasn’t really curious, but he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything, and maybe that was selfish of him and borderline evil. “I like to surf,” she explained, “but I’ve run two marathons.”

“What was your time?”

“3:45 the second, 3:56 the first,” she said. 

Killua whistled low and said, “Damn.”  _That’s a good-ass PR. She could train for the Boston Marathon_ .

“ _God_ , I used to do  _everything_ in high school,” she sighed. “I don’t know where all the energy came from! First swimming, then soccer, cross country—the whole damn smorgasbord.” 

“The whole damn  _what?_ ” Killua snorted.

“Oh, you know!”

“I really fucking don’t—”

“Oh, well, it’s like a buffet! Would you prefer the term charcuterie board?” she said in a perfect French accent that had Killua’s brain short circuiting.

“That’s so extra. Everyone I know pronounces it char-coot-ery.”

Retz burst into giggles. When she laughed, her eyes scrunched up, leant back in her seat. A second later, she snorted and waved her hand frantically to stop Killua from so much as commenting on it. 

When the waiter came out to take their order, Killua had yet to comprehend a single word on the menu. He decided his best course of action was to ask what the waiter would recommend and just go with that. When the waiter left, Retz stood with him and said, “I need to wash my hands. Where can I find the restroom?” 

As the waiter directed her, Killua’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Frowning, he pulled it from his pocket and stared at the name on the notification.  _Odd_ , he thought,  _Knuckle doesn’t snap me much these days_ . He opened the notification and it popped into a pixelated, zoomed in picture of the front of The Dancing Goat where Retz’ sunhat was on display. It was captioned with: “ _WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OVER THERE I’M CALLING FOR BACKUP_ ”.

Killua cursed under his breath and looked across the street. There was a park over there, but the view of it was blocked by an iron wrought fence atop a brick half-wall. Killua looked frantically up and down the street as he tapped away his response: “ _WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!_ ”

When it sent, his message was immediately opened. Knuckle’s stupid-ass bitmoji popped into the corner for as long as it took for him to send a photo off to Killua with an angle that put Killua’s face in view of the shot. He looked up, eyes wide, and targeted the rat-bastard. Knuckle was peeking out from around the corner of the brick column flanking the left side of the park entrance. He was holding up his phone, so Killua flipped him off.

The photo was sent to Killua shortly after and captioned with: “ _I KNOW I TOLD YOU TO HANG ONTO THE LAD, BUT I DON’T CONDONE MURDER VIA POISON._ ”

Killua scowled as he responded. “ _I’m not gonna POISON HER, DUMBASS_ .”

“Who were you flipping off?” Retz’ voice sounded behind him.

He startled, nearly flinging his phone across the table. He looked back and found Retz walking around the table to reclaim her seat. She glanced across the street, curious, before turning back to Killua, who was staring at Knuckle with a solid scowl.

Killua sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he said, “It’s—Knuckle’s spying on us.”

Retz gasped like it was the greatest news she’d heard in her nineteen years of existence. She twisted around, trying to find him, and when she did, she threw both arms up and waved. Killua dropped his head in his hand as Knuckle realized he was caught. The worst of it: Killua knew  _exactly_ who Knuckle called for backup, so it was only a matter of time before Uvogin showed up—if he was even being serious.

Retz gestured frantically for Knuckle to come over. After a moment spent debating, Knuckle jogged across the street and down the sidewalk to where Retz and Killua sat at the four-top table. 

As Knuckle collapsed in the seat next to Killua, closest to the building, Retz said, “What brings you over here?! I’m so happy to see you!”

“Oh, I keep tabs on my favorite guy.”

“You do not,” Killua huffed, glaring at Knuckle. 

Knuckle grinned at him, slumped back in his seat. Knuckle popped a foot up on the chair across from him and with one hand on the table, he hooked the other on the back of Killua’s seat.The guy had the posture of a middle aged man at a barbecue.

“Well, you’re just in time,” Retz said. “I was just about to convince Killua to come to the party on Saturday.”

Knuckle let out one solid, “ _HA!_ ” only to realize that Retz was being entirely serious. Knuckle cleared his throat awkwardly and shook his head, saying, “Yeah, no. That’s a bad idea.”

“Why? I think it’s a great idea. Gon would love to see him.”

Killua thought he might throw up.

“It’s a bad idea because…” Knuckle started, gesturing for Killua to fill in.

“Because… I’ll be comfortable because—” Killua started.

Knuckle snapped his fingers. “Right! Because Killua’s ex is going, and it’ll be uncomfortable for everyone,” Knuckle said. Killua stared at him, dumbfounded, and Knuckle nodded firmly. The lie was set in place, but it wasn’t really a lie, was it? It was as close to the truth as they could get without turning the brunch into a blood bath.

Killua leant back with a sigh and gave Retz a hopeless shrug. 

She pouted and said, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But why don’t you go anyway?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! Show them what they’re missing,” she said. She crossed her arms, proud of herself, and added, “And you should take a date! Knuckle, you rave about Killua all the time. Why don’t you two go together?”

“Been there, done that,” Killua said.

As Retz’ jaw dropped, Knuckle said, “I dunno, it’s a tempting idea…”

“Do you  _want_ to get your nuts thrown into a blender?” Killua said. 

“ _What?_ He’s not gonna  _do_ anything. He’s already got a partner,” Knuckle said. “This is my one shot at your ass, Zoldyck.”

Killua turned fully to Knuckle. Knuckle rose his eyebrows back, challengingly, and oh-so on brand. Truthfully, Killua had a blast the time Knuckle invited him to a frat party as his date—that is, until he and Gon got in a fight over it. Killua loved the idea of going back, if only for the parallels.

He’d regret it, though. He was sure of it. 

Killua pursed his lips and turned away with a bit of a sneer. “My ass is off limits,” he said. 

“Fine. Two tops don’t exactly make a pair anyway,” Knuckle said. Retz giggled as Killua gave Knuckle his skeptical side-eye. Knuckle startled and said, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re a bottom.”

“ _No_ , I’m not a bottom,” Killua cried, startled. 

“Oh, okay, you had me worried there. Like I shoulda spent this entire month wooing you or something,” Knuckle said. 

“You’re graduating in the spring anyway, so what’s it matter?” Killua said. 

“Oh, that’s exciting! What will you do after you graduate?” Retz asked, clapping her hands excitedly. 

Knuckle humored her and went on to explain his game plan for adulthood. He kept an arm around the back of Killua’s chair, and Killua was once again reminded of the fact that he lived off of this shit now. He wanted to spend every moment with his friends. It would keep him sane.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Two tops don't exactly make a pair anyway." If you're ever worried about Killua and Knuckle being endgame, think about this sentence.
> 
> Thanks for all the angry, bitter comments about how disappointed everyone is with both Gon and me! You all are absolute angels.


	3. He's A Bad Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Quality Killua and Knuckle Bonding Time feat. Frat Party Disasters

**I** f Killua was going back to Sigma Alpha, he swore to lay his life down to the fashion gods to make him look fly as all Hell. He’d swoop in looking like a goddamn snacc and a half, and in order to do that, he needed Kurapika’s assistance and Zushi’s moral support.

Kurapika swooped at eight o’ clock on the dot and snuck into the apartment via the back door when one of the neighbors was leaving, so it came as a surprise to both Zushi  _and_ Killua when Kurapika strolled in through the back door and appeared in Killua’s doorway without saying a word. One second Killua was upending his closet, and the next he realized that someone other than Zushi was in the apartment. 

“Jesus fuck,” Killua gasped, his entire body jolting as if shocked by an electrical current.

Kurapika was slurping on a smoothie and wearing a pair of round sunglasses. Killua swore again, turning away with a huff, and kicked a stack of clothes across his room. “There’s nothing to wear! I haven’t gone shopping in  _months_ ! Nothing’s new here.”

“I know, which is why I brought ten percent of my wardrobe with me,” Kurapika said. They marched into the room, sat the smoothie down, removed their backpack, and zipped it open. In the next moment, the contents came spilling out across Killua’s bed in neatly rolled articles of fabric. 

“Whoa,” Killua breathed, struck by the sheer amount of  _shit_ Kurapika compressed into their backpack.

Down the hall, he heard Zushi call out, “Is Kurapika here? I didn’t hear them knock.”

“That’s because you idiots left your back door open,” they said.

Zushi came to join them in Killua’s mess of a room. He put his hands on his hips and said, “Well, in that case, thanks for not stealing anything.”

“Who said I didn’t steal something?” Kurapika said. 

Killua sifted through the clothes, his eyes locked on something  _bright_ and  _yellow_ near the bottom. He hoisted it up and it crinkled and fell open into the shape of a loose bomber jacket, the top half white and the bottom half yellow. There was a red and blue patch on the chest, and fuck it, Killua was in love all over again.

“This is it,” he said, and went to his own closet to find a plain white shirt to accompany the jacket. He topped it all with a pair of faded jeans from Kurapika’s stash. 

Since he didn’t care about modesty, he stripped down to his boxers while Zushi sat on the bed and Kurapika fiddled away on their phone. Killua buttoned the jeans up and rolled the hem past his ankle. White sneakers were a no-go at frat houses—he learned from experience—and as such, he broke out a pair of plain black Vans and called the look done. 

Zushi clapped enthusiastically and said, “Amazing!”

Killua grinned and turned around to show off the back before swinging back around, arms swishing at his sides. The bomber jacket was on the bigger side, not that he cared. He felt safe and cozy in it. 

Killua popped the front out, winked, and stuck his tongue out at Kurapika, knowing that they had their phone up to take a picture. His room was a mess, but  _damn_ , did he look good. 

He picked up his phone from the mattress next to Zushi and grinned at the sight of Knuckle’s name in his notifications. It was game time.

He pocketed his phone and said, “Knuckle’s here. We’ll meet up with you guys around nine?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Zushi said with a snicker. “Have  _fun…_ !”

Killua rolled his eyes, laughing as he left the room. He clasped his hand on the doorframe, swinging around and feeling light on his feet as he jogged to the front door and swung it open. Sure enough, there Knuckle was, waiting on the stoop and looking fly as hell in a leather jacket and Yeezys.

Killua locked the front door behind him and pocketed his keys in the front pocket of Kurapika’s faded jeans. Knuckle smiled at him through the window and, when Killua pushed open the door, followed up with a low whistle. Knuckle fake-fanned himself as Killua shoved him in the arm and started down the steps.

“Come on—let’s get moving,” Killua said.

“I can’t—You’ve stunned me,” Knuckle said, swaying a little. He caught his balance and descended fast to catch up with Killua on the sidewalk. “You’re lookin’ good, Zoldyck.”

Killua scratched his hair. He hadn’t received compliments like that since Gon. “Thanks, I guess,” he said, cheeks dusted pink. He could feel the heat swelling to his ears as he cleared his throat and said, “So what were you thinking?”

They were approaching the intersection when Knuckle tossed an arm over Killua’s shoulders and sighed, saying, “ _Well_ , I  _was_ thinking… You, me, and the bottle of Malibu I stashed in the park.”

“You did not,” Killua said, and his jaw dropped with Knuckle didn’t deny it. “In case you forgot, public drinking is  _illegal—_ ”

“It’s not public if no one sees us—same goes for J-walking and nudity,” Knuckle said with a sly grin. He strolled ahead to cross the road, one foot off of the curb as his hand dragged along the back of Killua’s shoulders to his arm and dropped to his side. Killua took the hint, but passed it. He hesitated too long, so instead, he pocketed his hands and tried not to feel guilty about the rock in his chest that seemed to crystalize at the thought of holding hands with anyone.

Killua walked alongside Knuckle, a smile returning to his face from the way Knuckle just  _talked_ . The guy could talk about anything and everything, and Killua could use the fast-paced spontaneity of it. Keeping up was enough to distract him from the anxiety shaking him to the core whenever the clock ticked closer to nine.

At the park, Killua checked his phone for the seventh time during that walk. He startled at the touch of Knuckle’s hand on his wrist, and looked up to find Knuckle smiling down at him. “I’ll keep an eye on the time,” Knuckle said. “Don’t think about it.”

“Easier said than done,” Killua huffed. He cleared his throat and said, “Sorry I didn’t watch the game. How did it go?”

“Champions, as always,” Knuckle said with a killer smile for the nonexistent paparazzi. Killua smiled and prompted Knuckle for more details and  _boy,_ did Knuckle indulge that shit. The game, as it turned out, was an actual literal disaster without Gon on the field. Gon’s name went unsaid, though—it was obvious from Knuckle’s highlights that their backup running backs just weren’t cutting it.

The topic couldn’t stay on football forever, not when there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“How did you and Retz even meet?” Knuckle said. He walked ahead, cutting off of the brick path and heading for a patch of flowers off in the distance. There, he unearthed a bottle of Malibu from the mulch along with two half-empty bottles of Coke. 

Killua was momentarily distracted by the sight of alcohol out in the wild. He blinked hard and shook his head, saying, “I-I don’t know. She stopped by Starbucks and recognized me. It sounds like Gon’s told her about me, but she doesn’t know we… you know.”

“If I’m being honest,” Knuckle started, taking a seat at the bench. Killua joined him, pulling a foot up on the edge. His breath had caught in his throat, and the anticipation held him hostage. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Knuckle, not when Knuckle was about to spill the beans on something to do with Gon. 

Knuckle sighed, leaning back, and said, “She… doesn’t know that he’s bisexual.”

“Really?” Killua said, shocked. He stared off into the distance before leaning back with a huff, a laugh, and scratched at his hair. “Weird. I feel like Gon would have told her.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” he said. He cracked open the Malibu and, with Killua’s help, poured a hefty amount into each Coke bottle. He capped the Malibu and stuffed it into a plastic bag he produced from his pocket. They cheered to the night and drank with vigor. Killua couldn’t wait to get hammered and it wasn’t even nine in the evening.

They prattled on for some time as Killua relaxed into the sweet sensation of coconut on his tongue and Thee Knuckle Bine at his side. Knuckle, Gon’s best friend and fellow teammate, and the single best quarterback for the Hunters. Killua put his head back against Knuckle’s raised arm and looked at the sky through the canopy. 

_I can’t imagine how many girls wish they were in my position_ , he thought, smiling. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Knuckle said, his Coke bottle in hand. 

“Just…” he started, only to sigh. No, that wasn’t what he was thinking after all. He lifted his head a little, just to look at Knuckle. “I think I’d be perfectly happy if I didn’t go to Sigma tonight.”

Knuckle smiled and said, “You don’t mean that.”

“I mean it,” Killua insisted. Knuckle laughed, though. “I’m serious! I don’t need to be emotionally compromised this semester.”

“I thought you raised Hell, Zoldyck,” Knuckle said, grinning. He tipped his head, close enough for Killua to see the reflection of the streetlamp on Knuckle’s dark irises. “What happened to fucking shit up, huh?”

“My own shit’s fucked up enough as it is,” Killua said, quietly. He felt his chest tightening, and no amount of breathing could bring oxygen to his brain. Lightheaded and tipsy, he wondered if Knuckle was about to kiss him. “Do you actually like me?”

“Of course I like you.”

“I mean—Romantically.”

“Sexually?”

“No, romantically.”

“Bromantically.”

“Knuckle.”

“Alright, fine,” Knuckle sighed. He leant away, but kept his arm around the back of Killua’s chair. He shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I feel like I should’ve settled down junior year but it just never happened. In other words, I don’t think I’ll be mature enough for a relationship for at  _least_ another half decade.”

“That’s fair,” Killua said. He really couldn’t see Knuckle in a relationship, either—at least not now when Knuckle was living at Sigma Alpha. “What are you looking for?”

“If we’re being real?” Knuckle said, head tipped back to Killua. Killua nodded. Knuckle looked up at the sky, a stupid smile on his face. “Picket fence, two kids, and a hunting dog.”

“Wifey or hubby?”

“Wifey, I think.”

“Huh,” Killua hummed. It was a concept, he’d give Knuckle that much. “I… think that suits you.”

“Oh really?”

Killua rolled his eyes. “Yeah,  _after_ you get over your fraternity phase.”

“It’s not a  _phase_ , okay. It’s a  _lifelong commitment—_ ”

“Yeah, okay, Mr. Keg Stand Master.”

Knuckle whacked Killua upside the head because it was convenient. Killua elbowed him in the rib and got up from the bench. His world went sideways, but he caught his balance on the sidewalk a few steps down the hill. Knuckle groaned as he got up after Killua, like he really didn’t want to go to the party after all.

The walk to Sigma was calm, but Killua knew there was a big storm coming. He could feel it like Zushi’s foreboding and the dread he felt mere seconds before Illumi did something stupid. He clenched his fists at his sides as the sound of music traveled down the entirity of Frat Row and into the pit of his stomach. He could see Sigma Alpha from here, and for a moment, he was petrified. 

Knuckle paused on the sidewalk a few paces ahead of Killua. He turned back, and Killua realized then that he had completely stopped all forward motion. Just as he was about to pivot and dash, Knuckle put a hand out and said, “Come on.”

Killua stared at Knuckle’s outstretched hand, everything in him quivering. “You have to hold onto me if we see him,” Killua said. He didn’t trust himself. He was already feeling the strong, unavoidable urge to hug the shit out of Gon. Right now, he really just needed one himself.

“I will,” Knuckle promised. “Now come on.”

Killua nodded, hesitant but resolute. He steeled his expression, took Knuckle’s hand, and walked side-by-side with him to Sigma Alpha’s lawn. 

The party was in full swing and they found Kurapika and Zushi out on the lawn chilling on a ratty old frat couch. Zushi had his feet on the armrest, his bum on the backrest, and when he caught Killua’s eye, he was in the middle of chatting up a familiar pink-haired demon. 

Killua’s smile felt sharp and painful on his lips. 

Machi was a frequent partier and was most commonly known now as the one who went off the rails just before spring semester final exams. She drunk herself into oblivion and wound up carted off in an Uber for alcohol poisoning because she didn’t want to pay for an ambulance. Suffice to say she had her stomach pumped and was now a self-proclaimed sober college student.

She was still a frequent partier, though.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Machi said, her usually dull eyes widening at the sight of Killua there. Her gaze drifted down to where Killua had Knuckle’s hand in a viselike, white-knuckled grip. “And with the quarterback. You sure do make your rounds.”

“I’m filling in,” Knuckle said.

“For who? That twat with the hippie?” Machi said, and if Killua didn’t feel so nauseous he would have laughed.

“Is everyone dragging Gon’s name through the mud?” Killua asked. It took every ounce of strength in his being to keep his voice from shaking.

“More or less,” Zushi said.

Killua sighed. He supposed it was to be expected, but he still didn’t like the idea of taking sides on the matter. It might explain Retz’ reasoning for trying to get on his good side. He wondered how many of Gon’s teammates despised her after witnessing Gon’s post-“breakup” firsthand. 

“How was pregaming?” Kurapika asked. 

Killua gestured to Knuckle, who hoisted up the bag that contained the Malibu. Kurapika immediately thrust out their hand and gestured for Knuckle to hand it over. As they uncapped it and took a sniff, Knuckle said, “I paid for that, you know.”

“And I’ll abuse every chance I get to have my legal friends smuggle alcohol to me,” Kurapika said.

“We aren’t friends, and isn’t your birthday coming up?” Knuckle said.

“Only friends know my birthday,” they said. 

“Fair enough,” he said, and passed an extra Coke bottle to them.

Knuckle crouched beside the couch as Kurapika mixed their own drink. Machi sidled up next to Killua and hooked her arm through his as she said, “Don’t forget to dance with me tonight.”

“Okay,” he agreed, and watched her walk off. She trailed her fingers over his lower back as she went to flirt with the frat guys on the porch. 

Killua’s attention shifted to the open front door of Sigma. There was a table out front for guests to check their names off, and at the moment, a sizable line had gathered out on the porch. Killua knew his name was on the list only because Gon never took his name off of every party for the semester. 

He scratched the back of his head and glanced at Zushi, who took the hint. Zushi was on his feet in the next instant, saying, “Shall we?”

Killua nodded. It was time.

Killua took the lead. He was eager to  _know_ and to  _see_ just as much as he was dreading it. It was closing in on the eighth week of Gon’s sling—the last week of the sling. Killua felt himself floating with each step of his ascent to the door. He could see the chaos of the party through the frame, in the windows, silhouetted against the flashing, colored lights by the DJ. 

The world seemed to warp around him, and he blamed it on the Malibu. He could feel its sweet, sweet embrace muffling his brain and making him too sluggish to even respond to the frat guy’s comment. The guy knew him—Killua was familiar to every Sigma member now—so all he needed was a stamp on his hand. He could feel the ink drying on his skin, cool in the autumn air, as Knuckle guided him with a hand on his elbow.

Walking into Sigma cast a shiver over every inch of his skin, and he felt goosebumps raising on his arms and down to the stamp on his hand. He looked up at Knuckle, who glanced over his shoulder to ensure that Killua was close behind. 

They passed the stairs on the way to the living room archway. There, Killua could see nothing except the lull of the crowd swinging to the bass that hummed in his chest and through his hollow skull.

He felt someone’s hand on his free arm. He jolted, shocked back into existence. It was just Kurapika.

“You, me, the dance floor.  _Now_ ,” Kurapika said. 

Killua was so struck by the past five minutes that, by the time Kurapika swooped him up, he was already a goner. Nothing else mattered except the way his hips moved to the beat and the way he looked in the crowd. 

Kurapika put their hands to Killua’s hips and Killua’s wrists rested on their shoulders. They had their hair braided back again, showing off the gauges and the earrings that glittered along their cartilage. Killua grinned when he heard Knuckle behind him and reached back to bring him closer, so Killua was sandwiched between them and loving every second of it. 

He couldn’t believe he stopped dancing after breaking up with Gon. Dancing made him feel  _alive_ .

Killua closed his eyes and swayed with them. A small smile tugged at his lips at the sound of Kurapika arguing with Knuckle over the lyrics because Knuckle couldn’t sing for shit anyway. 

At the next song, Zushi switched partners and came to steal Kurapika away. Zushi winked at Killua, who rolled his eyes. Internally, he was marveling at how  _normal_ it all felt. 

He shivered at the sensation of Knuckle’s fingers pressing into the hollow of his hips, his thumbs hooking in the belt loops of Killua’s jeans. They rocked to the beat, and Killua brought his eyes up from the ground, smiling, and his focus zeroed in on the attention he gathered from across the room. 

The attention of Gon Freecss, standing at the archway threshold. 

Killua’s smile slipped at the look on Gon’s face. Eyes wide, brow furrowed, like he had the audacity to look so betrayed and horrified. 

The instant Killua’s smile vanished, though, Gon’s furrowed brow set into a full-blown scowl. Killua was certain he had never seen “murderous intent” coupled with Gon’s name until that day. 

And then, Gon was tearing through the crowd. 

“Oh, shit,” Killua started, adrenaline spiking. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to throw some punches or make a getaway through the living room window, fuck the consequences and the damage fee. He put a hand back against Knuckle, fully prepared to sprint.

Instead, though, Knuckle kept his word.

“Let me deal with him—” Knuckle started, pulling Killua back by the waistband of his jeans. Killua skidded, staggered, and caught his balance just as Knuckle put his hand out to stop Gon in his tracks. 

Sling-less and likely drunk, Gon swung his fist back and clocked Knuckle in the eye. 

Killua had never once witnessed a real-life punch like that, and so close to him as well. He even  _heard it_ over the bass on the speakers. He screamed despite himself and threw his hands up to cover his mouth, cursing at the sight of Knuckle staggering. He touched a hand to the side of his face. His fingers came back red as he sniffed and rubbed his wrist under his nose. 

Gon was shaking out his hand, grimacing at the agony of it. The breath that was caught in Killua’s throat gasped out when Gon met Killua’s eyes. Killua looked at Knuckle, who was in shock from the hit. 

Killua turned back, stepped up to Gon, and managed a low, smug laugh. He saw the exact moment Gon regretted coming over, his wounded hand now clutched to his stomach, and it happened when Killua brought his fist up.

When his knuckles cracked across Gon’s face, he felt it all the way to the joint in his elbow before it hit his shoulder blade and sent him quaking on the followthrough. He staggered, his hand stiff and hot from where he had completely obliterated the side of Gon’s face. 

Killua caught his balance. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking, his eyes wild and his blood racing. He looked around at all of the eyes on them, and when his eyes reached Zushi and Kurapika, the heat in his hand ruptured into agony. 

Before he could look at the damage, he heard Retz’ voice behind him, crying, “What happened?! Oh—Killua, your hand—”

_My hand? What about your boyfriend’s face_ ? Killua thought, eyes wide.  _Gon’s face_ .

He turned to find Gon clutching at his nose, dark liquid seeping between his fingers. Killua startled when Retz put her hands on his arms to look at his knuckles. Killua grimaced as she reached for Knuckle and pushed them ahead, saying, “You three—we are going to the bathroom right this instant. Gon, move your ass.”

“B-But—”

“You’re getting blood everywhere,” Retz said. 

The crowd parted for them. Killua was too disoriented to walk straight, so he didn’t bother looking at his hand until they were at the second floor restroom. The frat bathroom was just a worse-looking version of a dorm bathroom, with two stalls and two gnarly-looking showers. Killua eyed the monstrous-looking grout as he came to stand next to the sink beside Knuckle. Knuckle sniffed a little, stretched his face out, and grimaced. 

Killua watched through the mirror as Knuckle pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “You good?”

“Barely. Holy  _shit_ , Freecss,” Knuckle said, leaning over. 

Gon glowered at him, looking like he’d rather punch Knuckle rather than answer. He stepped over the bathroom tiles and went to the sink next to Killua. A droplet of blood hit the porcelain and turned pink on its descent down the drain. He gripped the edge of it, his swollen hand on the far side from Killua.

Killua brought his eyes up to where Gon was staring at him, his left hand still clutching his bleeding nose. Killua’s heart leapt to his throat and he turned away, swallowing hard. It was no use—he couldn’t even breathe, let alone speak. He put his eyes back on his hand where his knuckles were colored a bright, cherry red. 

Retz marched in, heels clicking. Killua glanced at her through the mirror where she appeared between Killua and Knuckle back by the toilet stalls. She took out the entire ream of toilet paper and brought it to Gon. She put a hand to Killua’s back and said, “Zushi’s getting ice packs for you two.”

“The one true champ here,” Knuckle huffed.

“Fuck you,” Gon said venomously, his sharp eyes on Knuckle through the mirror.

Killua stared at Gon, eyes wide. On his other side, Knuckle sighed like he expected it.  _What the Hell is going on_ …

“I’m glad you could make it, Killua,” Retz said. “It’s so nice to see you again, despite the… circumstances.”

Killua didn’t miss the way Gon’s head snapped up at the word “ _again_ .” Killua cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Yeah, you’re lookin’ good, Ritz Cracker.”

It wasn’t a lie—he really did think she looked good. She was decked out in a pair of Oxford heels and a cocktail dress with a full, swing skirt that fell to her knees. Black looked good on her, especially with hair and eyes that bright. 

She laughed, smiling down at the stack of toilet paper in her hand. She used it to scrub along the underside of Gon’s chin where some blood had trickled towards his throat. 

“Y-You two met already?” Gon stammered, gesturing between Killua and Retz. 

“Yeah, she got me brunch,” Killua said, and then pointed to Knuckle. “And then he showed up and she suggested we go to the party together.”

“Oh,” Gon said. He looked at Knuckle through the mirror, and then at Killua, and then at Retz, who was just now pulling Gon’s hand away from his face. Gon gasped and cried, “ _Oh!_ So you two aren’t—You aren’t—”

_He thought Knuckle and I were an item_ , Killua realized. He couldn’t tell if the sensation in his chest was horror or relief. Neither of them made him feel good, though. “I’ll punch you again, I swear to God,” he said, voice strained.

“I second that motion,” Knuckle said. 

“No one is punching  _anyone_ on my watch,” Retz said, tossing some bloody tissues into the bin.

A knock sounded on the door frame. The door was open just a crack, but Zushi pushed it open and entered with ice packs for the three of them. Behind him came Kurapika, who guarded the doorway with crossed arms and a murderous scowl directed at Gon.

When Zushi stopped at Gon, he said, “You look like shit.”

Killua glanced at Zushi, who gave him a discrete thumbs up for the solid punch. The state of Killua’s hand said otherwise, and the ice pack burned into his skin like it was fusing with his flesh.

Knuckle put his hip against the sink and gave a sweet smile to Retz, who was prompting Gon to put his head back to stop the bleeding. When Knuckle called her name, she turned her eyes up and met his. “Could you give us a minute?” he asked. 

Retz glanced at Gon, who averted his gaze to Zushi, who turned away like a fly caught his eye, and it was leaving the restroom. Zushi pulled Kurapika with him, who pointedly flipped Gon off before they were out of reach. 

“Sure,” Retz said. “As long as no punches are thrown, that is.”

“You have my word,” Knuckle said, a hand to his heart. He waved to her until she was out of view and the bathroom door shut. It took a moment considering all of Retz’ (well deserved) skepticism, but the moment the door closed, Knuckle had the floor. “What the  _fuck_ , Gon? What’s the matter with you?”

Gon slammed his fists on the edge of the sink and seethed, “I  _told you_ not to—Killua—”

Knuckle leant a hand against the mirror, leaning close alongside Killua as he said to Gon, “And I  _told you_ : You’re acting like a spoilt brat. You don’t get to decide when Killua’s ready to date again.”

“But I told you  _not to fuck with him_ . What was I supposed to think?!” Gon said, his voice hitching. “Just because—”

“You have a fucking girlfriend now, or did you forget that?”

“ _No!_ This is different. Retz has nothing to do with me not trusting you around Killua, Knuckle. Why can’t you just  _leave him alone_ ?”

When Gon pushed off of the sink to throw hands with Knuckle, Killua’s instincts brought his arm up to stop him. He put his forearm to Gon’s chest and shoved him back into the sink. Gon grabbed at the collar of Kurapika’s bomber jacket, but his force ended there. 

Killua pressed his forearm firmly just below Gon’s throat and said, “I’ll snap your collarbone, you piece of shit.”

Gon’s bloody lips fell open. Killua wondered if it was his own heartbeat he felt against his forearm, or if it was Gon’s pulse pumping like mad. Gon’s wide, amber eyes flitted between Killua’s as he stammered out, “K-Killua—”

Killua studied the bump on the bridge of Gon’s nose that was turning darker and darker by the minute. He knew then that if Gon’s nose was broken, it was all Gon’s fault. Gon was the reason Killua started working out in the first place. He was the reason’s Killua’s biceps showed veins when he flexed. 

“You promised to  _back off_ ,” Killua said.

Gon’s eyes were already glassy—Killua could see it in the florescent bathroom lighting—but Killua’s words brought those tears spilling over. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” Gon said, voice wavering. “I-I’m sorry—I just—I saw you and I just wish—”

“You wish  _what_ , Freecss?” Killua snarled, pushing him harder, but Gon resisted, his fist tightening on the jacket. 

Their faces were close enough for Killua to feel Gon’s breath on his cheeks. He could smell the iron from Gon’s blood on his lips. He should have known what was coming, but he was too high on adrenaline and woozy from the Malibu to think about backing off. 

Knuckle’s hand slipped between their faces a second before Gon could have given Killua a reason to punch him again. 

“You’re drunk. Both of you are,” Knuckle said, and Gon’s hand loosened on the jacket. Killua tugged it off and dropped his arm. He took several steps back and turned, nearly running face-first into the bathroom stall. Knuckle caught the back of his jacket and steered him to the door. 

Killua put his hand to his forehead and thought,  _Holy shit, holy fuck, that was too close_ . He dragged his hand down to his mouth and stared vacantly at the door as Knuckle lectured Gon behind him, saying, “We’ll talk when you’re not a mess. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit!” Gon cried, anger seeping back in. The words were sharp on his tongue despite the liquor and the blood. 

“You’re gonna fucking apologize to Killua when you’re sober, but I won’t let you near him until you apologize to me. Is that clear?”

“As if! You can’t tell me who I can and can’t see—”

“I said:  _Is that clear_ , Freecss?” Knuckle shouted, and Killua figured he could have heard that from across the entire football stadium. 

He flinched and glanced over his shoulder to where Gon was staring up at Knuckle like the request was so unfounded and unreasonable that he couldn’t fathom complying. It made Killua feel like they were kids being reprimanded by an Actual Adult. He felt both embarrassed and ashamed as he opened the door and left before he could hear Gon’s response.

He held the ice pack to his hand as he stepped out into the hall. He stared vacantly at the wall across from him, right next to where Zushi’s head was. When Zushi moved to the side to meet his eyes, Killua’s expression dropped into yet another stoic facade. 

“I’m fine,” he said reflexively.

“I-I didn’t realize you two were so angry with each other,” Retz’ voice sounded next to him. He turned to look, only to startle at the tears at the corners of her eyes.  _Geez, she really is just like Gon_ , he thought. The idea had wormed its way into his head during brunch, but this just confirmed it. 

He really couldn’t stand seeing people cry, so he tried his best to smooth it over. “I-It’s fine, really! You didn’t know. It’s stupid, anyway, so don’t—Don’t cry about it, fuck.”

Retz sucked in a deep breath and slapped a smile on her face. He didn’t know how she did it—he couldn’t fake a smile like that, and perhaps she wasn’t faking it at all. “You’re right. I’m sorry for making you come.”

“You didn’t make me do anything. I do my own shit,” Killua said. 

“Right, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Okay.”

Killua sighed and looked back at Zushi and Kurapika. He didn’t blame them one bit for looking completely and utterly lost. He could barely understand the situation as it was, and he figured it couldn’t get any weirder. 

It did get weirder, though. The entire semester, in fact, would be  _weird as Hell_ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Killua punched Gon's face into infinity who here straight up HOLLERED??


	4. Resting Bitch Face (Or Lack Thereof)

Killua’s hand turned black and blue the following day, and the swelling was so terrible he couldn’t hold his coffee mug by the handle. He looked like someone filled a black rubber glove with water and called it human. It was all just evidence of how pissed he had been last night—both drunk and furious. 

He couldn’t blame Retz for convincing him to go. Some part of him felt that it was inevitable. Even if he wanted to go back to the days when he avoided the party scene, he was still friendly with Knuckle and Uvo. He was  _bound_ to go back to Sigma Alpha, some day. 

He just hoped that day wouldn’t involve Freecss. Alas, that wasn’t the case, and it was written all over his bruised hand. 

He put his hip to the edge of the kitchen counter and pulled out his phone. From it, he found a swarm of notifications on his screen. Looking at them all, and the photo in the background, just reminded him of the fact that it used to be a picture of him and Gon on his lock screen. He had changed it in hopes of not thinking about the guy, but now he only thought about how painful it had been to change it.

It didn’t help that Gon’s name was littered through his notifications.

23:35  **GON:** where are you? can we talk?

00:12  **GON:** m sorry D:

00:12  **GON:** please talk to me

00:15  **GON:** can I call you?

00:15  _Missed call from_ **_Gon Freecss_ **

00:20  **GON:** why did you come to sigma?

01:34  _Missed call from_ **_Gon Freecss_ **

01:34  _Missed call from_ **_Gon Freecss_ **

01:35  _Missed call from_ **_Gon Freecss_ **

01:36  **GON:** i miss you s much babe plz answer

_He was just drunk_ , Killua told himself, but  _fuck_ , that was a tough pill to swallow down.

He left Freecss on read and went to a text from Uvo that involved nothing but a link to some post on Twitter. He opened it and, in a moment of horror, put his hand to his mouth to cover his silent scream at the sight of the video. Someone had posted a video immediately following Freecss’s punch to Knuckle’s eye, which meant a complete replay of Killua sucker punching the idiot across the nose. 

Knuckle had texted him, so he opened that message that read, “ _Don’t open the link Uvo sent you_ .”

_Too late for that_ , he thought, pressing his swollen fist to his cheek. 

He pocketed his phone—he didn’t need to deal with that bullshit at eight in the morning. He picked up his coffee mug with both hands and let out a shuddered breath. His eyes burned so he closed them as he took a sip of his coffee. Once he had caffeine in him, he’d feel better. He’d feel better.

Killua wasn’t sure how long he spent absorbed in an existential crisis that morning, but soon, he was broken from his reveries by the faint sound of a knock. He paused, lowering his mug slightly. It sounded like it came from the neighbor’s door, but it was definitely in the back of the apartment where Killua now stood against the countertop, several paces away from the back door.

He waited until he heard it again and confirmed that it was, in fact, a knock on his door. 

He debated not answering. It was eight thirty in the morning—as if  _anyone_ in their right mind would come knocking at that time on a Sunday. He played with the idea of it being Kurapika, and figured it was the most likely option. Kurapika ran on a different wavelength from all of them.

Killua stepped over and unlocked the door. His hand throbbed against the hot ceramic mug as he pulled the door open, just a crack. 

Killua took one look at the visitor and thought,  _This has to be a nightmare_ . 

Gon-fucking-Freecss was standing there, and the idiot had the nerve to show up in a sweatshirt Killua knew for a  _fact_ belonged to  _him_ . He never bothered to get his stuff from Gon’s place and had no intention of taking any of it back. Still, seeing it and seeing Gon on his back porch had his stomach flipping in all sorts of unpleasant ways.

Gon’s eyes were wide and lined with red and shadowed in purple and blue. “Killua, I—” he started, but Killua was already closing the door. 

He held his hand to the doorknob like it was all he could do to keep from falling and slipping into some great chasm of no return. He held his coffee to his chest and looked over his shoulder, through the kitchen, down the hall, to where Zushi’s bedroom door was still shut and would stay that way at  _least_ until eleven, if not noon. 

His chest tightened, realizing that Gon was  _right there_ , on the other side of the door.  _He shouldn’t be here_ , Killua thought, about to take his hand back.  _I shouldn’t go out there. I shouldn’t talk to him_ .

He pulled the door open again. 

Gon was still standing there. Killua put a finger up to silence him and keep him where he was. Gon stood still as Killua left to grab his shoes and a sweatshirt. When he emerged from his bedroom, slipping his arm through the sleeve of the sweatshirt, Gon was stand halfway across the threshold, holding the door wide open. Killua snapped his fingers and shooed Gon out of the apartment, following him out of the building and to the back porch.

With the apartment door securely shut, Killua walked down the length of the hallway beside the stairwell that stretched up to the second floor of apartments. The back door was propped open with a rock, and at the porch stairs, Killua decided that they were far enough from earshot to talk.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Killua said. He folded an arm over his chest, his coffee mug pressed to his bicep as Gon faced him, his feet on the edge of the stairs. One kick and Killua could take Gon out for the entire season instead of just the first two months. 

Gon looked down at his feet. The bridge of his nose was purple, and his hair was skewed into a black disarray. “Retz said she met you while you were working,” he said. 

Killua blinked. Perhaps it was too early in the morning, but he couldn’t follow. “You… came here just to tell me that?”

“No,” Gon said.

“Then what is it?”

“I was hoping we could just—” He hesitated. Killua watched him swallow down the words, brow furrowed. Last night when Killua was more unrestrained, he would have cut Gon off right there. He would have turned and left. Now, the aching sensation in his chest was back and it strung his throat exhaustively tight. 

Gon cleared his throat and met Killua’s eyes to say, “I was hoping we could just sit together, for a bit. We don’t have to talk.”

Killua studied him for a moment, not fully processing the request. It took a moment for his brain to realizing that “just sitting together” meant just that: sitting together. Nothing more. 

But it was everything to him. It was every time they spent on the steps of the gym, in front of Killua’s dorm, sitting on the couch in the front lawn of Sigma while they listened to people screaming the lyrics to Fallout Boy in the living room. He’d be reliving the longest goddamn relationship of his life and he felt weak at the knees from how easily he swayed into dependency.

He didn’t speak. He took a step down from the porch and hunkered down with a sigh. 

Gon lowered down beside him. He could feel the heat of Gon’s gaze on him as he put the mug to his lips and took a sip. He thought about what Retz had implied, that Gon made his own coffee now. He glanced at Gon, taking in the sight of Gon’s arms crossed over his stomach. He wondered if Gon had aggravated his wounded collarbone by punching Knuckle. 

They sat there in the early morning breeze and the low, smokey fog over the city. The sky glowed white through the clouds, and Killua could feel the moisture on his hot face and trembling hands. 

He wondered if Gon realized how selfish he was being.  _I’m no better, though_ , Killua thought. All this past month, he’d been trying so terribly to be the “mature” one, whatever  _that_ meant. He felt betrayed by his mind whenever he saw Gon’s name anywhere—in his texts, on his phone, Snapchat, Twitter, etched into his head. He shouldn’t want these few minutes on the back porch to last.

He shouldn’t.

Killua glanced towards the hand Gon raised up. Gon pointed to his mug, his mangled hand. Killua held it up for Gon to see to near-black bruising. The heat from the coffee wasn’t helping, but maybe he just liked suffering now.

Gon trailed his fingers over Killua’s swollen knuckles. The ghost of his touch was cold in comparison to the pumping blood under Killua’s skin. He held his breath as Gon guided Killua’s hand up to his lips. Gon kissed his knuckles before pressing them, tenderly, to the bridge of his nose and his closed eyes. Gon’s skin was swelteringly hot, and their pulses thumped out of tune. 

When Killua could breathe again, it was because of the tears that leaked from his eyes. His irregular breath opened Gon’s eyes again, and Killua yanked his hand away to rub the tears away. He pushed the heel of his palm to the corner of his eye, blocking Gon’s view of him crying. Had he ever cried in front of Gon?  _No, never_ . 

He was the mature one. He couldn’t cry, not now. Maybe later, when he wasn’t supposed to act like he cared.

Killua pushed himself to his feet and turned to the door. He jogged up, rubbing away all of the tears that spilled out. He was grateful when Gon didn’t move—Killua would be shocked, too, and it was all he could do to keep from dying from the embarrassment of breaking down in front of his ex. 

He locked the back door the instant he stepped through. He flattened his back against the door and scrubbed his arm across his eyes, sniffling, and altogether a miserable sight. 

* * *

“Has Freecss apologized for punching your face in?” Killua asked. It was something he had been wondering since the morning after that drunken brawl in the middle of the dance floor. He couldn’t help wondering if Gon had completely dismissed Knuckle, and knowing would confirm exactly what the Hell was going on between Freecss and Bine.

Knuckle sighed. “Nah. The rat bastard’s giving me the run-around,” he said. He tapped the countertop next to the espresso machine as Killua steamed milk. Killua studied the bruise on the side of Knuckle’s face where red spilled like wine over his purple eyelid and yellowing under-eye shadows. 

Killua poured the dollop of foam in waves before striking through into the shape of a heart. “So… you two haven’t been talking?” he asked.

Knuckle shook his head. “Every time I do, I swear I’m just cementing his weird logic for punching me.”

“Why’s he so butt hurt with you?” Killua asked, but he knew the reason why. Last night was the wakeup call: Gon was being territorial, possessive, jealous. Knuckle was too loose with the way he talked about Killua. Knuckle had a habit of teasing Killua with sexualized compliments. It all fit together.

“When he started dating Retz again, I straight up told him: If he’s giving you up, I get dibs first. We’ve been at odds ever since,” Knuckle said. He thanked Killua for the drink and added, “I wasn’t serious, by the way.” He took a sip. Killua rose an eyebrow. “Unless…?”

“Nice try, Bine,” Killua said with a demonic grin.

Knuckle blew him a kiss. Killua pretended to dodge it. Knuckle threw his head back and laughed. Just as he was about to leave, they were both distracted by the sound of the door chiming. Killua slumped at the sight of Retz entering, looking perfect as ever in a pair of tailored, thrifted jeans and one of Gon’s cutoff shirts. 

“Shit,” Knuckle whispered, turning back to Killua. “You need backup?”

“She’s not the  _enemy_ , Knuckle.”

“She is to me,” he said, expression narrowing into a fake-scowl as Retz caught sight of them. Killua reached across the counter to slap Knuckle back into his usual self. 

Killua slapped on a plastic smile as Retz approached and said, “If it isn’t Ritz Cracker,” to which Knuckle muttered, “Jesus Christ Almighty…” into the rim of his latte cup.

“Yikes, Knuckle, your eye has seen better days,” Retz said. “And Killua—How’s your hand?”

Killua held it up. It wasn’t black, but rather, it was a dark, violet purple. It generally hurt to do anything with it, and even if Starbucks wasn’t paying his bills, it kept his mind off of  _other_ things. Like Retz wearing Gon’s cutoff t-shirt from high school track.

Retz’ eyes flew wide open. She marveled at the bruise and whispered, “It looks like you dunked your hand in calligraphy ink.”

“The other guy looks worse,” Knuckle said. When Killua rose an eyebrow, curious, Knuckle explained, “Both of his eyes are bruised now. Yellow and blue— _everywhere_ .”

“Holy shit,” Killua gasped. He was mildly impressed with himself, so he couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow. That’s… amazing.”

“I’ve been wondering about this whole affair,” Retz said, and Killua had to stop himself from blanching at the word choice. He cleared his throat a little, turning to the side to grab the next drink cup as Retz leant up against the counter next to Knuckle. She barely reached his shoulder. “Wasn’t your ex at the party? Did you ever see them?”

“Uh…”

“And I’ve been wondering why Gon’s so mad at Knuckle.”

“Yeah, about that—”

“So the conclusion I’ve come to is that you two used to date.”

Killua hadn’t felt that hysterical in a long time. He covered up his laugh with a cough into his shoulder and bit his lip, looking at Knuckle, who was staring at Retz like a deer in headlights. He looked up at Killua, who felt Retz’ eyes on him as she glanced between the both of them.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” she said.

“You…” Knuckle started with a slow shake of his head.

“Hit the nail on the head,” Killua said. Knuckle slapped his forehead as Retz threw her head back and groaned.

“Oh, no! And I suggested you two go to the party together—I’m so embarrassed—” she cried, slumping forward. She dropped her forehead onto her arm before perking back up. She slapped both hands to her cheeks and said, “I’m so sorry for interfering!”

“Well, you know how it is,” Knuckle said, and Killua knew it would be a disaster from the first word out of his mouth. Knuckle flicked a hand dismissively in the air and said, “He was the love of my life, but I blew it all for some flat-assed bitch.”

“ _Knuckle_ ,” Killua said, horrified.

“And now all he sees me as is a  _joke—_ ”

“I’ll punt your ass to Saturn if you don’t shut up right now, I swear to God, Bine,” Killua snarled. 

Knuckle fake-swooned and said, “I’ve never experienced such fiery love and passion  _since—_ ”

“Is there a problem over here?” Killua’s coworker said. 

Retz was in shock, mouth ajar, eyes wide, staring from Knuckle to Killua to Killua’s coworker. Killua closed his eyes and said through clenched teeth, “Everything’s  _fine_ . They were just  _leaving_ .”

“Oh! But I haven’t placed my order yet,” Retz started, frantic. She hurried to the cash register, rifling through her pockets for her wallet.

As she went, Killua pegged Knuckle with a deadly glare. Knuckle winked at him, pleased with himself, and walked off. “Farewell, love of my life!” Knuckle said with a little bow. If Killua wasn’t on the clock in that moment, he would have flipped Knuckle off. But alas, his coworker was watching the entire exchange with a thinly veiled look of annoyance.

Killua really didn’t expect Retz to become a common occurrence, much less a common visitor  _with Knuckle Bine_ . Knuckle made himself abundantly clear: That he didn’t approve of Gon running back to his ex. Still, that didn’t seem to stop Knuckle from visiting Starbucks at the same time every day, even when that time just so happened to overlap with Retz’ schedule. 

If Killua didn’t know how to cope with it, Zushi and Kurapika were no better. In fact, they were worse off.

“I can’t believe you kept us in the dark.  _Brunch?_ With  _the enemy?_ ” Zushi cried, hands in his hair.

“She isn’t ‘ _the enemy_ ,’” Killua insisted. “She’s only the enemy if I have plans on getting back together with Gon. Which I don’t!” Giving up that fiasco felt inevitable from the start, but he still felt the guilt like acid in his chest for it. 

He wouldn’t be selfish. 

“For some reason, I don’t believe that,” Kurapika said. “But even if you two  _did_ get back together, I wouldn’t be able to forgive him even if you put a gun to my head. I’d just tell you to pull the trigger.”

“ _Me?_ ” Killua said. “I’m in the same boat, dude!”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me, bitch,” Kurapika said, jabbing a finger at Killua’s chest. They stepped ahead, walking backwards with their hands out, saying, “So you’re telling me if he broke it off, you wouldn’t go crawling back?”

“I—” Killua started, floundering. He clamped his mouth shut, teeth clenched and groaning. He scrubbed his hands through his hair and whined, “I don’t know! It’s not gonna happen anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

After a second, he reeled on Kurapika, volume high and pitching, “And I don’t crawl!”

“Right, because he’s the one on his knees, if you know what I’m saying,” Zushi said, a cheeky grin on his face as he jogged ahead, giggling when Killua kicked his foot out to trip him. Zushi bounced out of the way and twirled around Kurapika, laughing all the way. “I gotta go to class! I’ll talk to you guys later!”

“I’ll kick your  _ass_ later, Umi!” Killua shouted. 

Zushi licked his finger and stuck it to his bum and said, “Did you say  _kiss my ass_ , Zoldyck?”

Killua started taking off his backpack like he was about to throw hands again. Zushi ran off before that could happen, and vaulted over a bench to avoid some oncoming students turning the corner of the street. One of the girls shrieked and Kurapika apologized on behalf of their idiotic friends.

Killua straightened his backpack with a huff, rolling up the sleeves on his sweater. “Christ,” he muttered, sighing. 

“I really do think that you’ll go crawling back to him,” Kurapika said. 

“I have more restraint than that,” he insisted. “I’m not desperate.”

Kurapika sidled up beside him and rose an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” he pressed.

“Sure.”

He sighed again. He rubbed the back of his head as he said, “And… Freecss already stopped by the apartment…”

“ _What?!_ ” Kurapika screamed, and the level of fury in their voice had Killua flinching, stepping to the side. Kurapika chased after him across the street, saying, “When? Why?”

“Sunday morning!” he cried, frantic to smooth over the tension in Kurapika’s face. He really hadn’t expected them to react like that.  _So much for the cool, calm, and collected Kurapika_ , he thought. “I don’t really know why, if I’m being honest. We just sat on the back porch together. It kind of felt like an apology? But we didn’t talk.”

“You didn’t  _talk?_ What’d you do, fuck on the back porch?”

“No!” Killua exclaimed, appalled. What  _did_ they do on the back porch? Killua didn’t know what to call it other than an “apology”. 

The memory of hot tears on his cheeks came to mind.

He flushed in embarrassment and stammered, “B-But I… might have cried. In front of him.”

He didn’t expect Kurapika’s silence. He paused to look at them, only to find their eyes focused on him, the tension in their face now tugging concern into their brow. Killua looked away with a huff, saying, “It was weird. I haven’t cried since… I don’t even  _know_ when.”

“What did he do?”

He felt Gon’s pulse still throbbing on his bruised hand.

“Nothing. I just—got up and left. Locked the back door. Went back to bed.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Killua turned, startled. Kurapika was looking at their feet as they walked down the path towards the center of campus, where Killua would go to work and Kurapika would split off to go to class. 

“I’m sorry for being insensitive. I know the way you’re acting is logical—you wouldn’t act irrationally—I guess I’m just… I’m worried about my friends making mistakes.”

“I won’t make mistakes. Not in regards to this, anyway. I only make mistakes on midterms.”

Kurapika laughed, a small smile on their lips. Killua grinned back. He hoped he convinced Kurapika so he felt some semblance of responsibility to prevent himself from interfering. He was the mature one. He was supposed to act logically, rationally about this. 

But why did it feel like someone has his throat clenched in their fist again? Why did he want so terribly to be hysterical for once?

He thought about it all through work, which made his customer service smile all the more plastic. He survived the brief visit from Knuckle and Retz, who sat at the end of the counter for some time pestering Killua, like Killua could handle it. He zoned out until it was all over, until he could lug himself to the bus stop and sit, zombie-like, at the back of the bus. Evening lulled into the streets of his neighborhood and masked his stop in a deep, inky blue. 

He stepped off of the bus and into the orange glow of the street lamp at the corner of the street. He unbuttoned his black Starbucks shirt as he wandered down the street and to the back door of his apartment. His eyes were down until he reached the steps, at which point he regretted looking up.

Because Gon was sitting there, on the steps, like he never left the morning Killua broke down and abandoned him there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I have a Twitter now!](https://twitter.com/girlskylark) Because Sars wanted to fight me over this fic publicly. And now, YOU CAN TOO!


	5. One Or None

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon and Killua have a serious chat.

Gon’s eyes were dark with bruises and his hand was no better than Killua’s. And he was standing on Killua’s back porch. 

“G-Gon,” Killua stammered. He set his expression into a tight frown. He started up the stairs, looking ahead as he said, “I’m too tired for this.”

“But I made you cry,” Gon said, standing. He stepped between Killua and the back door, his hand against the frame. Killua’s eyes went to the blue and white sling that was back on Gon’s arm—the arm he had used to punch Knuckle. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Killua said, stepping to the side. Gon deflected, stance broad to compensate for the fact that he had only one arm to block with. “ _Freecss_ , move your ass. I fucking mean it. Don’t make me crack your collarbone.”

“Don’t act like you care about your masculinity. You’re allowed to cry—”

“What happened to not talking? I don’t want to talk about this shit,” Killua said, throwing his hands up. 

Gon didn’t move. They stared at one another, but Killua couldn’t keep contact without the heat in his face threatening to burst over into tears again. He turned away and looked at the small parking lot out back. He crossed his arms over his chest, where his white undershirt showed between the open buttons of his Starbucks shirt. He stepped over to the railing, dropped his backpack against it, and leant over the ledge.

“I  _don’t_ fucking cry,” Killua hissed, fists clenched together. “Can you just  _forget about it?_ ”

“No.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Freecss.”

“I’m not,” he said, his voice closer than before. Killua tensed as he saw Gon’s shadow approach, silhouetted by the tungsten back porch light. He looked away as Gon leant on the railing and said, “I wanted to check on you. We don’t have to talk.”

“You said that last time,” Killua whispered, a hand to his cheek to block himself from looking at Gon. “Why haven’t you apologized to Knuckle yet.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Gon’s voice reminded him of when Gon had told Knuckle to go fuck himself in the frat bathroom. It was a level of hostility Killua wasn’t familiar hearing in Gon’s voice. 

“You aren’t allowed to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Gon snapped. Killua caught his eye and Gon sighed, slumping against the rails. He pouted and looked away, muttering, “Okay, maybe I am a little jealous.”

“You  _literally_ started a fistfight over me.” Gon didn’t comment, but he fidgeted uncomfortably and scratched at his hair. “Knuckle’s your best friend. Stop pushing him away.”

“He isn’t my best friend. I don’t—” Gon started, shaking his head. He sighed. “I don’t have one anymore.”

Killua rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Knuckle still considers you his friend, but you’re just being a stubborn ass right now.”

“Yeah, because I still love you!” Gon hissed. 

Killua stared at him, horror setting in where he had hoped Gon would back off and leave him alone like he promised. He had no intention of being a home wrecker, especially not after meeting Retz, so he had stamped out that selfish part of him that hoped Gon would regret picking her. She was perfect for him. 

“I still love you and Knuckle knows that but he went and—he still flirts with you and he thinks I made a mistake dating Retz, but it never felt like Retz and I broke up in the first place! We were on  _break_ and I just—It was so hard coming to terms with us being on a break until I met you. And I never—”

“You two were just on break freshmen year?” Killua whispered. “Then why did you date me? Why did Knuckle try to get you over her?”

“Because I was  _miserable_ without her,” he said. “I-It’s like I don’t know how to function when I’m not in a relationship.”

_And I thought_ I _had a dependency problem_ , Killua mused with a dry smile, his head turned away.

“You don’t still love me,” he said.

“But I do!” Gon insisted. 

“You picked her over me—”

“There’s no ‘ _over_ ’!” he exclaimed. Killua grimaced, his eyes burning. Gon was never seriously angry before they broke up. He’d only ever see the guy argue for fun, for sport, never to make a fucking point. Gon stared desperately at Killua, and Killua tried to understand why this hurt him so much. “Why do you keep insisting that I  _rank_ the people I love? There’s no better or worse, less or more.”

“It’s not like you could  _marry_ two people, Gon—”

“Not if we move to Utah.”

“Jesus Christ,” Killua huffed, unable to hide the pained smile on his lips.

A moment of silence passed. Killua felt so awkward and embarrassed that he wondered if he was already crying. He checked his eyes and they came back dry. 

“Yesterday,” Gon started, slowly, “I realized that you were never vulnerable with me. I think the closest I ever got to seeing you vulnerable was when you had that bad reaction to weed.”

Killua had completely forgotten about that, and for good reason. The one time he got high in front of Gon was at a frat party and he had become so paranoid and hysterical that he spent the entire night being babied by Zushi until they were sober enough for them to walk to the dorms.

“That doesn’t count,” he said, unamused.

“I know. But you can always be vulnerable with me, Killua. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle it. I just want to help you.”

“We aren’t—You aren’t in the position to offer your fucking shoulder for me to cry on,” Killua said through barely restrained anger. Still, he was snapping. He clenched his fists on the railing and said with every ounce of venom he could muster, “If I need a shoulder to cry on, I’ll just go to Knuckle—”

Gon’s hand was on his arm in an instant. He tried to resist the force, but he was taken off guard by the aggressive way Gon shoved Killua by the arm, twisting him so his back was to the railing. Killua grabbed at the strap of the sling over Gon’s shoulder, his forearm pressed to Gon’s collarbone to hold him back. 

Gon held his gaze, unwavering. “ _Don’t_ joke about that,” he said, darkly. 

Killua shuddered. He hated how malleable Gon made him before, but now? He just felt filthy from the way Gon’s threat scorched him to the core.

“You lost the privilege to see me unguarded,” Killua said, putting force against Gon throat. 

“But I love you, Killua—”

“And I  _don’t love you_ ,” he hissed, and that shit  _burned_ coming up. He tried to swallow the knot in his throat as he said, “Not anymore.”

Gon’s wide, amber eyes flitted between his. Killua could feel his pulse on his arm where Gon’s grip tightened. 

Gon shuffled closer, his foot pushed alongside Killua’s backpack. 

Killua leant away, narrowing his eyes. He stiffened his arm, but Gon leant closer still. His face felt incredibly hot. His heart was already in his throat and beating fast at the proximity of Gon’s nose to his own, his eyes unable to focus on both of Gon’s irises at once. 

Killua couldn’t breathe. If he did, he knew it’d be erratic, hysterical. God, he wanted to scream. He wanted to kiss Gon’s stupid face so badly his hand ached from where he clung to the railing to hold himself back. 

And then, the tears seeped over his lashes. They bubbled over and spilled down his reddened cheeks, and he let out a sharp, panicked breath as he shoved Gon  _hard_ against the shoulder. Gon staggered back as Killua cussed, seething, “ _Fuck you!_ Is this what you wanted,  _huh?_ ”

Gon surged forward. Killua half-slapped his face, shoving at his cheek as he wrapped his one good arm around Killua’s shoulders and clutched at his neck. Killua’s arm became trapped between them, pressed uncomfortably to the sling where he could feel Gon’s hand clenched in a fist against his ribs. 

Killua breathed hard against Gon’s shoulder. He panted, and the tears made him feel gross and sticky. He hated crying. He hated how it activated his saliva glands for no reason. He hated sniffling—sniffling was the bane of his existence, and yet there he was, trying to hold it all back with every ounce of strength he had. 

He clutched the back of Gon’s shirt with his one free arm and squeezed hard. 

23:03  **KILL:** You’re gonna hate me

23:03  **PIKA:** Why

23:04  **KILL:** just

23:04  **KILL:** because

23:04  **PIKA:** Y’all fucked didn’t you

23:04  **KILL:** What? No

23:05  **KILL:** Freecss just sorta stayed the night??  😅

23:05  **PIKA:** Imma fuckin murder you Zoldyck

23:05  **KILL:** Not opposed 

23:05  **PIKA:** Say your last words

23:05  **KILL:** Convince Zushi to leave for class sooner??

23:06 **KILL:** 🙏 🙏 🙏 🙏 🙏

23:08  **PIKA:** Fuck

23:08  **PIKA:** Fine.

Killua pressed his ear to his bedroom door. He listened to the sound of Zushi zipping up his backpack and, a short while later, the back door shut and locked. He let out a breath of relief and opened his door a crack. After scoping out the hallway from the living room to the kitchen, he pulled the door open all the way and turned back to his bed where Gon was sat on the edge of it, tugging on his sneakers. He had become an expert at putting his sneakers on single-handedly, though he had yet to reapply the sling for that day.

“Okay, coast’s clear,” Killua said. 

When Gon stood, Killua stepped aside, but despite all the points he took to avoid contact, Gon walked straight to him. Killua held his breath, cheeks pink, as Gon leant in with a smile and said, “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“I-It’s just this one time!” Killua insisted, frantic. 

Gon merely smiled, cutting to the kitchen with a curious glint in his eye. Killua sucked in a deep breath and let it out, a hand over his heart. He was  _too close_ , and Killua could see exactly where Gon had slept with his contacts in because of how his bloodshot veins cut around them. If Gon and planned to stay over, he would have brought his glasses.

But then Killua just  _had_ to have a meltdown. He wouldn’t do that again.

“I’m serious, Gon,” he called after him, but he just received a dismissive wave in reply.

_I’m such an idiot_ , he thought, trailing several paces behind Gon. He watched as Gon scoped out the kitchen, looking every which way before at last targeting the coffee maker on the stovetop. Gon pointed to it, and Killua pointed to the jar on the counter where the grounds were kept. 

Killua lingered near the hallway entrance, arms crossed and eyes cold and exhausted. His skin felt stiff from crying so damn much. He was surprised his skull wasn’t flooded right about now, but when his caffeine addiction blended with the dehydration, it was no wonder he had a headache. 

He needed to set boundaries—that was what Gon’s promise to him was. It was the only thing Killua could think of to keep from wanting to see the guy every damn day. They weren’t supposed to see each other after the break up or else  _this_ would happen.

Granted, he wasn’t exactly prepared for those two breakdowns.

Gon unscrewed the coffee maker, lax with the sling, and poured several tablespoons of grounds into the filter. Killua scowled at Gon and his perfect ass in those frat boy jeans and that blue button up from yesterday. His jeans were ruffled around his ankles, half-rolled up and showing off a pair of patterned socks tucked into white sneakers. Killua didn’t remember Gon dressing that well on his own and wondered if Retz was responsible.

“Why’re you back to wearing the sling?” Killua asked.

“It’s been achy since Saturday. The PT said I should wear it until the swelling goes down,” he explained.

Killua left to head to the bathroom. He kept the door open as he brushed his teeth, unconsciously leaning close to the threshold to keep his attention on Gon. He could hear the faucet running, and then the gas stove being turned on. He leant back to the sink with furrowed brows, irritated with himself for being such a helicopter host. 

He spat foam out in the sink and scooped water into his mouth to rinse it out. After scrubbing his face clean, he gargled mouthwash and swished it around as he took a piss at the toilet. After flushing and washing, he was aware of the crack in the door that showed the fact that Gon had leant around the corner of the hallway, just as watchful of Killua as Killua was of him.

He spat out the mouthwash and said, “You watching me piss, Freecss?”

“No!” Gon cried, startled. He cleared his throat. “I-I was just—wondering where the mugs are?”

“The hutch in the living room,” Killua said.

“Right, sorry.”

Gon hurried down the hall, passing the bathroom as he went. Killua narrowed his eyes and left the mirror behind where his reflection showed nothing except his annoyance. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was directed at Gon or himself.

Killua pulled his sleep shirt over his head as he cross the hallway to his room. He flicked it into the hamper and went to hunt down something appropriate for the day, at which point he looked away from the closet and found Gon standing in the hallway staring at him, carrying two mugs in one hand. 

Killua opened his mouth to tell Gon to piss off, but was interrupted by Gon saying, “I want to date you.”

Killua blinked. He snapped his mouth shut and turned away, muttering, “Excuse you.”

“I’m serious,” Gon said.

“Fill your end of the bargain, dumbass.” His voice came out hollow, tired, but inside, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. He wanted to tear his hair out instead of cover it with a sweater. 

As his head popped through the collar opening, Gon said, “I-I can’t break up with Retz—I love her too much. I don’t want to.”

Killua clenched his teeth so tightly they squeaked. He had a stupid thought, but he wondered what the odds were.  _Might as well ask_ , he thought. He was angry enough to not worry about being rude or insensitive. “What if she broke up with you?”

Gon stared at him, eyes widening. “Wh-What?” he whispered, looking more or less ill.

“If you won’t break up with her, let her do it for you.”

“I-I couldn’t—How could I even suggest that?” he asked, stepping back as Killua went to the door. 

Killua met Gon’s eyes with a sneer and said, “I don’t fucking know. If you want me, I suggest you figure it out. You know her better than I do.”

He watched the way Gon swallowed thickly, his eyes stretched wide as Killua took the mugs from him. The ceramic clanked in his hands. Gon licked his lips, eyes flitting between Killua’s, as he said, “I want you. I want you so badly.”

Killua stepped back when Gon leaned towards him. He turned away and shook his foggy head that had swarmed with heat. His chest felt hot as he turned the stove off and poured two mugs of fresh coffee. 

Behind him, he heard Gon’s breath shudder out of him. “I’ll figure something out,” Gon whispered. “I’m so sorry for putting you through all of this. I-I just couldn’t ever say no to Retz, not after—all of last year—”

“It’s not okay,” Killua said, tersely. Quietly, he added, “But I know you needed closure. That’s why I suggested it in the first place.”

They drank their coffee at the low table in the living room, sitting on the floor across from one another. Killua put his eyes to his phone where Kurapika named their price for getting Zushi out of the apartment. He silently thanked Kurapika, but he could never tell them that. Thanking Kurapika for something like this felt like betrayal. 

Gon spent the entire time scowling at his lap as he sipped idly at his coffee. Killua’s headache ebbed, only slightly, and halfway through his mug Gon looked up.

“I know what I’m going to do,” he said. 

Killua looked impassively at him. He could feel his nerves sparking like mad through his system from the intense way Gon stared at him, looking for confirmation. Encouragement.

“I’ll do it on my own.”

“Okay,” Killua agreed. 

Gon shifted uncomfortably. He glanced towards the living room window sill and said, “I don’t know how long it’s gonna take. Could I stay the night sometimes? I don’t like us being strangers wh-when I’m dating Retz.”

_No_ , Killua wanted to say. Last night was different—last night he was emotionally compromised. If he wasn’t so miserable last night, shit would have gone sideways. They would have done things they’d regret in the long run. 

“Only if you apologize to Knuckle,” Killua said.

“I’m not apologizing to him,” Gon hissed.

Killua took a sip of his coffee and looked away. 

“Killua—” Gon groaned miserably. He rolled his entire body around as he whined and flopped to the ground with a fake-sob. Killua could see the edge of his face from around the corner of the coffee table. 

Killua gave an indifferent shrug and decided to lay the sarcasm on thick as he said, “Fine, I’ll just go date him until you’re ready.”

Gon shot up so fast Killua nearly got whiplash. 

“I’m  _kidding_ , Jesus,” Killua huffed. “Besides, Retz thinks Knuckle and I are exes anyway. It’d be weird if we got together.”

Killua was certain he had never seen such an intense level of surprise on Gon’s face. Gon was in such shock that for a solid minute, he couldn’t speak. When he could, it was because his lips started to waver and he squeaked, “Really?”

Killua startled at the tears in Gon’s eyes. Panicked, Killua waved his hands about and said, “Oh my God, Gon, it was just a joke and she took us seriously. It was either that or telling her that  _we_ used to date—Gon, come on, don’t cry about it.”

“I’m not,” Gon said, crying.

Gon rubbed his hands over his eyes as Killua sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He shook his head, groaning, before throwing his hands down. “Why are you so upset about this? Knuckle and I act like that whenever we’re together!”

“I’m not upset—I’m just  _frustrated_ ,” Gon said. He pulled his knees up to his chest and said, “I miss being able to  _hug_ you and _hold your hand_ and  _dance_ with you. And seeing Knuckle get to do that at Homecoming just makes me really—”

“Upset?” Killua finished, eyebrows raised.

Gon rolled his eyes and muttered, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. I feel like I’m going through Killua Withdrawals.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Killua huffed.

“Aren’t you having withdrawals?” Gon asked. 

_All the time_ , he thought, but saying it out loud would just make it more difficult to hold back. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Gon’s lips felt like in fear of forgetting the sensation entirely. He wanted to taste Gon’s toothpaste on his lips, and smell his cologne on the sheets. Most of all, though, he missed their time at the gym. It wasn’t the same, running alone.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. 

“Please?”

“No, I’m not inflating your ego right now. I’m still mad,” Killua said. He finished off his coffee as Gon begged some more, flopping on the ground again. Killua stood and went to fetch his backpack so they could leave and he could go on with life acting like he wasn’t about to be the reason Retz’ heart would break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be gone this weekend out in the Great Outdoors (in a cabin) by the Big Open Sea (a lake) but I'll be back late Monday! If y'all wanna talk about THEORIES and stuff [I've got a Discord](https://discord.gg/e7EGU35) that's become the designated place to drag me for writing this fic lol I told them all to behave but I don't trust em for a SECOND.


	6. Gon's Grand Master Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon must apologize to Knuckle like the absolute gentlemen he is, but alas, he is not a gentlemen, he is but a hormonal college student with a one-track mind.

The best course of action for Gon Freecss involved two prime goals: 1) Being able to spend the night with Killua again followed by 2) Being able to date him again. The first goal was easiest to accomplish as it would only annihilate his pride and not his entire heart as the second one would do. 

But, in order to accomplish #2, he needed to execute the one task required to accomplish #1.

And, so, Gon’s first task of that day upon leaving Killua’s apartment was to find the one and only Knuckle Bine.

It physically pained him, though, to think of forgiving Knuckle’s actions by apologizing for his own reaction. Gon had never felt so irrationally, rationally  _angry_ before in his entire life. It filled his insides with a fiery heat that burned straight from the pits of hellish jealousy and personal frustration. He was frustrated with himself for not being able to have Killua and Retz.

He wanted both of them so terribly it  _hurt_ to think about dividing himself like that. He didn’t want either of them in the dark. He didn’t want either of them to ghost the way Killua had for that entire month before Homecoming. 

Killua had cut off the part of Gon that encompassed his entire shift into college life. Without Killua, he felt tongue-tied and socially clumsy, irritable. He had lost his filter around Killua and now that it was back, he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. One thing, though, that came out of their breakup was the sharp left-turn his bank account took when he stopped rerouting to Starbucks, but even  _that_ he missed.

Gon tugged at the fabric of the sling strap as he came within viewing distance of Sigma Alpha. His thoughts soured and his stomach churned in disgust. He didn’t want to look at, let alone  _talk to_ Knuckle, but he’d do it for the sake of having overnight privileges at Killua’s place.

The thought of spending time with Killua again had Gon’s brain exploding. It started as a delicate little bubble in his chest, popping like small, melodic chimes. It soon boiled over into a frenzy, though, one that he couldn’t stop and soon he was galavanting down the sidewalk and spinning past the Sigma Alpha property line. In his head, there was a chorus, and among that chorus was an entire dance number suitable for Broadway.

He hopped, skipped, and leapt over the fence threshold with his free hand clutching the iron pole. The instant his foot touched down, however, every bubbly sensation inside of him popped at the familiar sight of Retz on the porch couch.

Gon stuttered to a halt. Dread was  _far_ from the sensation he felt now. It was so far from it, in fact, that he wondered how it was possible for him to feel this way when he knew what was coming. 

Retz, one of his favorite two human being in the entire planet, was looking absolutely  _radiant_ that day in a pair of green leggings and a jean jacket littered with iron-on patches. The bubbles fizzled out in his chest and were replaced with a cozy, warm pocket that soaked away all of his reservations about apologizing to Knuckle. 

Gon jogged up the stoop, smiling wide, as Retz tapped a pencil to her puffed out cheeks. She pouted down at the book in her lap until the exact moment Gon hopped, skipped, and leapt onto the couch beside her. He twisted around, put his sling to the open air, and settled in with his head on her lap where he could cover the book and get all of the attention for himself. 

Retz laughed and said, “Hey, hey, hun.”

“Hey, hey, to you, too,” Gon said. He preened at the sensation of Retz’ hand combing through his hair. He closed his eyes and put his nose to her knee. She smelled like… a bonfire, smokey and warm. “What’re you doing out here? It’s chilly.”

“Waiting for  _you_ ,” she said. “I have class soon so I figured I’d swing by before then. Have you had coffee yet?”

Gon hummed as he turned onto his back completely. He opened his eyes and found Retz leaning over him, her chin propped up on her hand, her elbow to opposite knee. Her hair was so much longer than he remembered it being, but he had watched her grow it out all through the past year from across the country. He put his hand through her blonde hair where she kept it pushed back by a stiff, black headband. 

“I want to walk you to class,” he said. 

“If you do that, you have to be ready in twenty minutes.”

_Twenty minutes…_ he thought, trying to remember what he came here for. It was Tuesday, but he didn’t have classes for another few hours. What was he doing here? 

_Oh, right_ .

His expression soured and he groaned, tipping his head to her hipbone. She giggled as he clutched at her waist and said, “Ugh, never mind. I have to  _apologize to Knuckle_ .”

“Yikes, don’t twist your arm over it,” she said. Gon pushed himself up, pouting, and slumped against the back cushion of the couch. She put her arm back around him, her knee pulled up as she said, “If it helps, I think that’s a great idea. I miss all those funny videos you used to send me about Knuckle. You two used to be so close.”

“I know…”  _and then he kept flirting with Killua_ , he thought, scowling out at the street. He glanced over his shoulder through the dining room window, but Knuckle wasn’t there. 

“You shouldn’t be worried about Knuckle and Killua,” she said. Hearing both of their names coming from Retz’ mouth had Gon tensing in anxious anticipation. 

There was no way he could gauge what her reaction would be if it ever got out that Gon and Killua were an item before fall semester. She never seemed bothered by other peoples’ sexuality, if her Pride photos were anything to go by. They were both so open with dishing out compliments that it never occurred to him that she was anything other than bisexual. She was sweet and charming with everyone, flirty when tipsy (not that she drank much), and always an affectionate hugger. 

But they had always had each other.  _What would she think if I had someone else last year?_ The question had kept him up at night all through September. 

Retz nudged Gon’s leg, jarring him back into the conversation. “Did you hear me?”

“About Knuckle and Killua?” he said, dazed. 

“Yeah. There’s nothing romantic between them anymore. You don’t have to worry about them getting back together,” she said, only to turn away with pursed lips. A small smile tugged her cheeks up as she said, “But… they are really cute together. I’m glad they’re friends, and I’ll be glad, too, when you get your  _ass moving_ and go  _apologize to Knuckle!_ Now shoo!”

She swatted him with her book. He rolled away, moaning and groaning, back off of the couch. She pointed the book at him and said, “Make it quick and I might still be here.”

He felt like his face might split from how wide he smiled. She looked precious sitting there in the cool autumn morning. He reached for the book, clutching at her hand as he leant over her and said, “If I don’t make it back in time—gimme a kiss goodbye?”

Retz’ tanned, freckled cheeks flushed pink. She glanced at the sidewalk, a small smile on her lips as she whispered, “Real quick, okay?”

“Of course,” he said. 

He pulled her forward by the wrist and laid his mouth over hers for a short, languid kiss that made him warm and tingly all over. When she pulled away, he waited for her second, chaste kiss as if to punctuate just how much she loved him. 

“Okay. Now  _go!_ Go say sorry,” she ordered, whacking his ass with her book. He took off laughing, giddy from her infectious smile.

The instant he was across the threshold, he took off running up the stairs to the third floor. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, and wouldn’t stop until the courage Retz gave him evaporated at the physical sight of Knuckle rudely awakened from deep sleep after Gon kicked open his door.

Gon landed heavily over the threshold of Knuckle’s bedroom, panting, eyes wild. Knuckle jolted under the covers, groaning. The shades were over the window and Gon couldn’t see a damn thing except the vague shape of Knuckle sitting up in bed saying, “What the fuck—?”

Gon threw open the window blinds and swung around.

He screamed at the sight of Uvo sitting straight up, rubbing his eyes and looking directly at Gon. 

“U-Uvo!” Gon shrieked. 

The bed creaked as Knuckle sat up beside Uvo, hair askew. “Fucking  _knock_ , dude, Jesus,” Knuckle said, throwing the covers aside. Gon screamed again, half expecting them to be naked, but they were both decently covered—if nothing but boxers was considered “decent”. 

Gon slapped his hand over his eyes and screamed, “Ah, sorry!”

“Wait—What are you apologizing for? Trespassing or…?” Knuckle said. 

Gon was speechless. There was some shuffling going on, but Gon was too terrified to look until after Uvo said, “I’ll see you at practice, dude,” to which Knuckle said, “Yeah man.”  _What the fuck is happening?_ Gon thought as he felt a hand over his wrist, tugging his fingers away from his field of view. 

Knuckle went back to leaning on the edge of his bed, looking thoroughly frazzled. “Well?” he said. 

Gon stammered uselessly, looking at the closed door and back at Knuckle. Did he—? Did he just imagine that entire ordeal? 

“Y-You and Uvo…” he started, disoriented. 

Knuckle sighed. “Yeah, what of it, Freecss? You gonna punch me for jerking around with Uvogin?”

Gon turned bright red before he could stop himself. Knuckle put a hand to his forehead and muttered, “Oy vey, wrong wording. Look, buddy, if you want me to say, ‘Oh, it’s not what you think,’ I can totally do that. You know I was in theatre, right?”

“I-I’m sorry!” Gon screamed, startling them both. He ducked his head and said, “A-About punching you, and wishing I woulda punched you again after I heard Retz thinks you and Killua used to date! And also for plotting to replace your toothpaste with ketchup before deciding to apologize—!”

“Alright! Alright, I get the fucking picture, dude,” Knuckle said, waving his hands. Gon perked up with a relieved sigh. “And if this whole situation wasn’t a wakeup call for you, I don’t—I  _never_ had any real intentions of… I dunno, pursuing Killua or whatever.”

“O-Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Okay, good,” Gon said and gave him a firm nod.

“Okay.”

“Okay, now that that’s settled,” Gon said. He got down on his knees and raised his hands in a lopsided praying manner, his movements restricted by the sling. “I need your help convincing Retz to break up with me.”

Knuckle stared at him, looking momentarily flabbergasted by whatever the Hell just flew out of Gon’s mouth. Eventually, though, he managed to rasp out, “It’s too early for this,” and got up to use the restroom. “Do it yourself, man!”

Gon chased after him to the bathroom where he stood in the doorway and rolled his eyes as Knuckle went to the urinals. “I  _can’t_ do it myself. I can’t break up with her if I don’t want to break up, so I need  _her_ to break up with  _me_ . I have a plan but I need your help selling it.”

“What’s the plan?”

Gon sucked in a deep breath. After a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and said, “I’m gonna pretend to be the type of guys she hates.”

“Racist and sexist?”

“What? No!” Gon squeaked, blushing. “Will you help me get the other guys on board so they don’t question it when I start acting weird?” 

Knuckle looked over his shoulder and said, “How weird are we talking?”

* * *

Killua had a knack for attracting bad situations, it seemed, so he really shouldn’t have been all that surprised when two things happened that Wednesday at work: 1) His sister came to visit, which wouldn’t have been weird had she not arrived approximately five minutes before 2) Gon showed up.

But before Gon visited, and before any bad situations could to occur, Alluka was Killua’s one and only main focus of the day. He hadn’t expected to see her there, standing in line waiting for him to take notice of her. He gasped and nearly abandoned the current task at hand. He was filling a drip coffee cup and when that was done, he was hurrying to the counter to hand it to the customer and be one step closer to his sister.

“Alluka! What are you doing here?” he said, and once again, his coworker was skeptical over how many people Killua  _actually_ knew. He looked to them and pointed to Alluka, who waved as he said, “My little sister.”

“Ah,” his coworker said and stepped away from the cash register. “I’ll let you take care this then.”

Killua thanked them and circled back around to take Alluka’s order. She leaned against the counter and clapped her hands down, saying, “I came to see  _you_ , you idiot! You never visit me in the dorms.”

“I don’t want to get in the way,” he said. He wanted Alluka to have her own college experience. Freshmen year would be the start to her adulthood—he wouldn’t interfere with that. 

“You could never get in the way, idiot,” she said. “And you haven’t been posting on your Story a whole lot lately. How are you and Gon?”

_Fuck_ , Killua thought. Now was not the time to break the news, nor would it ever, if Gon’s promise was anything to go by. He wished he wasn’t working food service at that moment, otherwise his hands would be all up in his hair scratching his scalp as he grimaced and looked away.

“Oh no, what happened?” she whispered. “You two are still together, aren’t you?”

“Not… really,” he said, strained. He quickly waved his hands, saying, “But it’s fine, really! I’m over it.”  _Aside from bawling my eyes out all over Gon’s shirt the other night_ , he thought. 

“Oh, Killua…” she sighed, dreadfully, and he  _really_ didn’t need her pity right then and there. 

“Tell me what you want. I’m on the clock here,” he said, tapping his nonexistent watch. 

She perked up and made her order quick. She followed him down the counter to where he pulled out soy milk from the fridge and set to work on her drink. She sighed wistfully again and said, “I’m so sorry to hear about you and Gon. I know he was, like, your first real relationship.”

“Yeah, well, live and learn,” Killua said, even though he loathed the phrase. He made a face as he poured milk into Alluka’s cup. 

She drummed her fingers on the counter and asked, “So what was the issue then? Why’d y’all break up?”

“High school sweetheart transferred here.”

“No…”

“Damn straight, literally. She’s… nice, though.”

“You’ve  _met her?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“Killua, I gotta say, your life is too chaotic for me. I’d be having a breakdown right about now if I were you.”

Killua shrugged. “I don’t see the point in having a breakdown.”

“You don’t  _decide_ when it happens, obviously,” she said. The image of Gon saying, “ _You were never vulnerable with me_ ,” came to mind and made him sick to his stomach.

Killua steamed her milk and poured it over the espresso. The creamy texture turned golden, swirling into perfection. Just as he passed it to her over the counter, his eyes caught on the open front door and the guy who stepped through. 

_What the fuck is he doing here?_ Killua thought, eyes wide. His attention stopped at Gon Freecss and that fucking  _snapback_ . To top it off, that bruise was looking sore as Hell.

“You look like you just rolled off the curb and into traffic, dude,” Killua said. 

Alluka turned around, following Killua’s gaze to where Gon walked straight past the line and ducked under the separator bar that blocked the pay counter from the rest of the store. Gon had a crooked smile on his face—smug and looking damn fine. 

Before Killua could comment on  _that_ part, they were both interrupted by Alluka snapping the cap off of her latte and shoving it up into Gon’s face. Hot espresso and steamed milk flew in a cascade of caramel all across the front of Gon’s white shirt, splashing straight across his cheeky grin.

Killua jumped, startled, just like everyone else behind Gon in line. People from across the most popular Starbucks in campus turned to stare as their famed running back, stunned speechless, faced the freshmen responsible for such a mess. Alluka stood far shorter than him but held every ounce of confidence and power that kept Gon from saying a word. 

Alluka set her jaw tight and glanced at Killua before crushing her Starbucks cup in her fist. She shoved it into Gon’s chest, and as he floundered to catch it, she stomped out of the way and pointed to the exit. 

“A-Alluka—” Gon started. It was the only sound in the Starbucks aside from the rivulet of liquid dribbling from the counter in front of Killua. 

“Get out,” she said with enough malice to make Killua wonder if he had ever heard her be this angry at anyone other than Milluki. 

Killua watched as Gon stepped forward over the puddle and, holding the cup in his sling, plucked at the front of his shirt in a weak attempt to dry it out. The white fabric was completely see-through now as he eyed Killua from over Alluka’s head. Killua looked away and went to grab a mop. 

When he emerged from the back room, the store had returned to normal aside from Alluka, who was still fuming next to the latte puddle. Her brow was furrowed over her round, blue eyes. She glanced up at him through the fringe of her bangs and said, “I’m not apologizing.”

“Damn, okay, go off,” Killua said with a soft laugh. He smiled and hoped she could tell that he really didn’t mind. She was allowed to be angry—he couldn’t change the way she felt any more than he could control his own emotions.

She smiled, scratching the side of her face as he scrubbed the spill dry. He took a towel to the counter and cleaned it off as students passed them on their way to the pickup counter. Alluka stood close, and when Killua glanced over, he found her hands clenched into fists at her sides, shaking. 

He reached out to squeezed her hand, but he wound up grabbing her wrist instead. “I’m okay, Alluka, really.”

“I’m so mad at him.”

“I know.”

“Why aren’t you mad?” she asked. 

“Well, Kurapika says it’s because I’m stupid,” Killua said, stepping back behind the counter. “But honestly, I think it’s because I already punched the guy.”

Alluka’s jaw dropped. She pointed to her nose, where the bulk of Gon’s bruise still was. Killua nodded.

Alluka gasped, only to clam her mouth shut when when Killua’s coworker gave her a dirty look. She grimaced and mouthed, “ _Sorry!_ ” to his coworker. She looked to Killua and gestured to the door, whispering, “I should probably…”

“Yeah,” he said with a weak, apologetic smile.

She gave him a thumbs up, though, and said, “Nice hit, though! I’ll see you later!”

He laughed and surprised himself with how long he smiled even after Alluka was gone. Like Zushi, Alluka always managed to cheer him up.

Meanwhile, out on the fringes of campus, Alluka’s latte could be found embedded in the fibers of Gon Freecss’ white shirt. No amount of Tide Pods could cure the damage, but Gon figured it was for the best. It was something to remind himself of just how far he had to go before he made good on his promise to Killua. 

He had intended to tell Killua the news—about having apologized to Knuckle, of which he was still proud. So proud, in fact, that he was still riding the high of being friends with Knuckle again. It was because of this that Gon himself could be found in the stadium locker room moving his shit back to his old locker next to Knuckle’s. 

He kicked his shoulder pads into the back of the locker and stuffed his cleats into the bottom shelf. In the chaos of his temporary locker, he dug out what he was looking for: a spare shirt. Before he could take off his hat  _or_ soiled shirt, though, he was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. 

He glanced back beyond the shadow left behind by Knuckle Bine’s towering figure. Most of the guys were coming in for practice, but he was still surprised to see Knuckle so on time. 

Gon beamed and popped up. Knuckle’s eyes lingered on the stain and asked, “Dude, you smell like coffee.”

“Oh, yeah, Alluka threw a latte at me,” he said, looking down at his sling. He lifted it a touch, just to inspect the white hem turning a golden brown. 

“Alluka? Isn’t that Killua’s little sister?” he asked. 

Gon nodded. “Yeah, she was at Starbucks when I went to visit Killua—”

“Wait, hold up,” Knuckle said, waving his hand to silence Gon. Gon shut his mouth and watched the gears turn in his best friend’s head. That thought alone had Gon’s attention spiraling out of control.  _Best friend_ , he thought, a hand to his chin.  _Maybe Killua was right? But Killua’s been my best friend since last fall_ —

Knuckle narrowed his eyes at Gon and said, “So you’re telling me that just because you  _apologized to me_ means that you’re suddenly able to see him again? Fuck no, dude, you gotta stop bothering him.”

“I don’t  _bother_ ,” Gon scoffed. Knuckle reached over and Gon slapped his hands around until Knuckle managed to snag his snapback off his head. “Hey!”

Knuckle flicked the hat into Gon’s locker and said, “You’re not talking to him until you’re ready to give him your all. Got it?”

“But—!” Gon started, only to realize that it didn’t matter. Knuckle didn’t have the final say, anyway! Knuckle may have a superior standing on the team, but he wasn’t Gon’s  _mother_ , for Pete’s sake. 

Knuckle rose his eyebrows at Gon, who sighed dramatically and relented. “ _Fine_ . I won’t see Killua.”

“Nuh uh, you agreed to that way too quickly. You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he said.

One of the guys stepped around them and clapped Knuckle on the shoulder. He pointed to Gon and said, “Dude, nice shirt.” Gon sighed and ran his hand through his hair. The state of Gon’s personal life was a point of interest amongst the team. It was a miracle that Retz was kept in the dark the entire time. If anything, he expected the guys to rat on his and Killua’s relationship, if only to get a rise out of her. 

Knuckle gave up with a groan and went to unlock his locker. Gon went after him, back to where his duffle was still on the ground, half-purged of its belongings. Gon got down on his knees again and set to work, one-handedly chucking things into his locker.

“What do you want me to do?” Gon asked.

“I don’t know,” Knuckle sighed. “I just don’t trust you right now.”

“You and half of Yorknew. That seems to be a common theme this semester,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the locker room. He spied Uvogin easily from across the circular space, perched on one of the benches and clad in his leggings and thick, grass-stained socks. He was shirtless and it reminded Gon of Tuesday morning. “Speaking of trust—Why didn’t you tell me about Uvo?”

Knuckle hissed like Gon’s words caused him physical pain. He reflexively kicked Gon in the knee, who crumpled in an instant, whining, “Not the sling! Not the sling!” 

Knuckle shoved him in the head and seethed, “Because you can’t keep your  _mouth shut,_ Freecss. For fuck’s sake—”

“I can too keep my mouth shut!” Gon screamed. 

“Boys!” the bellowing voice of their coach resonated through Gon’s entire being like the bass at a frat party. He trembled and fell off balance, away from where Knuckle was about ready to beat the shit out of him. 

Coach Mackernassey marched into the room. He commanded a presence that dwarfed the rest of them at a whopping 6’7”, dense stature that both impressed and intimidated Gon. Gon popped back up and to his feet in the few seconds it took Coach to approach them with a glare, saying, “You’re on thin ice, Freecss. You too, Knuckle.”

“What’d I do?” Knuckle said.

“You let the twerp punch you in the first place. Set his field time back,” Coach said, pointing at Gon, whose shoulder still ached at the memory of it. 

“Sorry, Coach,” Gon sighed.

“Don’t apologize to me.”

“Well, I already apologized to Knuckle,” Gon said.

Coach’s eyes widened and he looked to Knuckle to confirm. Knuckle sighed, shrugged, and admitted that yes, Gon  _did_ apologize. Coach crossed his arms and gave a slow, hesitant nod to Gon. “In that case… carry on, then. Don’t be late for practice, Bine.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he said. Once Coach was gone, Knuckle jabbed a finger at Gon and said, “Stop distracting me.”

“You distract yourself,” Gon said, sassily, and ducked to avoid getting hit again.

He went back to his duffle where, at the very bottom, he had all of his photos flattened across the stiff backing of his duffle. Using his teeth, he tore bits of tape off of a roll of duct tape and used it to pin the photos on the door of his locker. 

First to go up was one of his Aunt. It was after his last Homecoming game in high school, and she had him and a few of his high school buddies bundled up in a group hug. He remembered fondly of how she basically strong-armed them all into looking at the camera. Retz had been holding the camera.

Below that photo, he pinned one of Killua. It was over Spring Break, when neither of them left for home and wound up in Monterey for an entire day. Gon couldn’t visit home, not really, anyway, but he had been more than thrilled to spend the week with Killua. He loved every second of Killua’s ramblings about home and his siblings. Gon always wanted siblings, so he lived vicariously through Killua and had told himself that he’d be the single best brother-in-law to Alluka. 

_So much for that_ , he thought dreadfully, his shirt now cold where the latte dried. 

He pulled out a photo of Retz and smiled down at it. He had laid claim to Retz’ surfboard that day because he had been needy and whiney, which always made her flustered in public. She paid him back, though, by crawling on top of him and just as he thought she’d kiss him, she pushed herself up into a full-blown handstand straight over his shoulders and said, “ _Nice try! Begging is a bad habit, Gon!_ ” His aunt had taken the photo at the exact moment Gon was screaming, “ _I’m not a dog!_ ” but it just looked like he was smiling. 

He reached up to pin the photo above the picture of his aunt when Knuckle’s hand reached over him and took it. “Hey!” Gon cried, grabbing for it.

“Are you serious right now?” Knuckle said, holding it high over his head. He was dressed up to his waist in his practice gear and just a shirt away from leaving entirely after the guys heading to the stadium. “You literally  _just_ put up a picture of Killua.”

“Yeah, so? If I had a picture of you, I’d put it up there, too!”

Knuckle rolled his eyes. “That’s different.”

“What’s going on?” Uvo’s voice sounded nearby.

Gon whipped around to look at him and pointed accusingly at Knuckle. “He took my photo of Retz!”

“Yeah, because he was gonna put it  _right_ next to a picture of Killua,” Knuckle said. 

Uvo laughed and snatched the photo from Knuckle, who gave it up without a fight. Gon threw his hands down in annoyance, only to gasp when Uvo handed it to him. As Uvo faced Knuckle, Gon hastily pinned up the picture and guarded the door with his entire body. “You’re just jealous ‘cause Gon’s got two times the game you’ve got,” Uvo said.

“I’m bi too, ya know,” Knuckle said. “I’ve  _always_ had two times the game.”

“Nah, this is different. If being bi gets you two times the game, Gon’s got four times it,” Uvo said. 

Knuckle scowled at him and said, “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Them’s the facts, bro,” Uvo said, walking off to the field. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

As Uvo walked off, Knuckle slammed his locker shut and went after him, saying, “If you’re talking pan—” to which Uvo said, “Nah, that’s, like,  _five_ times the—So Gon would be more like  _six_ times—”

“You’re not making any fucking sense—”

Their voices drowned out after the locker door slammed shut at their heels. Gon stared after them, flustered and tense from having to fight for his right to Retz and Killua’s photos. He felt like a feral cat guarding its food, and with his nerves all strung up, the ringing of his phone nearly sent his heart straight up his throat and out his mouth.

“Fuck,” he cursed, a hand to his chest. He gasped a little and barely recovered by the time he read the name on the caller ID. He answered the call with a cheery “Hey, babe! How’s it going?”

“Really good! Do you have PT today?” Retz said, and hearing her voice in his ear ebbed the tension from Knuckle’s assault on her photograph. 

He went back to his locker and sighed, “Yeah, I’m there until four. But then we should do something! Like… play  _Hunter vs Hunter_ ?”

“Really?” she said, and he perked up at the disbelief in her voice. “Isn’t that a battle royale video game? I didn’t know you were into that.”

“Does that bother you?” he said, smiling. 

“No, I’m just surprised.”

_Oh_ , he thought, dejectedly. “Well, what do you think? Yay or nay?”

“Yay, obviously. I’ll meet you at Sigma then. Love you, hun.”

“Love you, too,” he said, and  _hearing it_ and  _saying it_ had him feeling all gooey inside. After hanging up, Gon could be found flustered, giddy, and lying across the locker room bench with a stupid smile on his face barely restrained by the hand on his cheek. He kicked his feet in the air, put himself together, and took off for the physical therapist’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y'all know: 
> 
> I'll upload again tomorrow! I got a lot of writing done this weekend. [Fight me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/girlskylark)
> 
> Also, yes, my nickname on Discord is PolyGon #Confirmed. FIGHT ME.


	7. Morning After Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't have to be a bad friend, I just have to be a bad boyfriend." — Gon's logic 2k19

**K** illua returned from the longest run of his life feeling too exhausted to think. He was on autopilot, lumbering up the steps to the back porch. He pushed off of the door frame, propelling himself towards his apartment door where he fumbled with the keys for a hot second. After entering, he went first to the protein powder on top of the refrigerator. The jug fell and rolled across the tiles as he cursed, still breathless, and picked it up with a pained groan. 

He then went to the pantry. He grabbed a packet of pudding mix and chucked it onto the kitchen counter. In the middle of the entire affair that involved mixing protein powder into the pudding mix, Zushi came to stand at the kitchen entrance looking thoroughly disgusted by Killua’s meal plans. 

“Don’t look at me,” Killua huffed, cheeks still flushed from his run. He felt sticky with sweat and his arms were noodles and useless in his stirring endeavors. Zushi came over to help, but Killua swatted him away. 

“I’m just gonna stir  _for you_ , dude, Jesus,” Zushi said, taking the bowl by force. He snatched the whisk and with the speed of an experienced pudding maker, whipped the milk, pudding, and protein powder mix into shape. 

Killua drowned his exhaustion in his water bottle until the pudding was tucked away in the refrigerator. Stiff and smelling gross, Killua went to take a shower for as long as it took the pudding to solidify in the fridge, at which point he ate it straight from the bowl with a spoon.

As he was in the middle of opening up his Calc homework with Zushi at his side, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at it half-heartedly, only to feel his heart slam to a halt at the sight of Gon’s name in his Snapchat notification. Killua grabbed for it so aggressively his bruised hand  _slammed_ down on the coffee table with enough force to karate chop someone’s arm off. 

The entire coffee table shook and the sound sent Zushi jumping in his seat at the other end of the couch. Zushi looked up from his workbook and said, “What the Hell was that for?”

“Nothing,” Killua said.  _Shit, that sounds suspicious_ , he thought. “Just—Nudes from Knuckle.”

Killua flinched, his phone and wounded hand now clutched against the pudding bowl. He stared at Zushi, who stared back, his jaw steadily dropping. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Zushi whispered. 

Killua clutched his phone tighter as Zushi straightened, like he was about to pounce for Killua’s phone. In a panic, Killua decided that his one true course of action was to escape, so he got to his feet and booked it to his room. The instant he did, though, he knew it was a stupid move because it just  _confirmed that he had Knuckle’s nudes,_ which he certainly had not yet obtained.

“Killua!” Zushi screamed in horror. 

Killua slammed his door shut with his foot and, panting, collapsed on the bed with his laptop askew and his pudding bowl safe in his arms. He had yet to get a bed frame, and so he took the long descent down before thinking to  _actually_ open Gon’s snap.

19:08  **GON:** I apologized to Knuckle can I come over?

19:08  **GON:** I’m already scooting my way over

19:09  **KILL:** Dude Zushi’s here tho

19:21  **GON:** Open your window

19:21  **KILL:** You’re literally in a sling

19:21  **GON:** Open it!!

19:21  **KILL:** Are you actually serious right now please tell me you didn’t actually scooter all the way over here

19:22  **GON:** Very serious

19:22  **GON:** You want me to quote Shakespeare?

Distantly, as Killua was getting up from his bed, he heard the faint sound of someone saying, “ _O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head—_ ”

Killua cursed under his breath, rolled his eyes, and set the damn pudding down. He clamored over his bed to the windowsill where he normally kept his phone charging overnight. As he stepped over, bouncing on the mattress springs, he wished he hadn’t looked at all.

Gon was down there, sling-less, and quoting Shakespeare off of his phone with his freshly healed arm extended out to the window. 

Killua turned away, turned back, ran a hand through his damp hair, and decided the only way to shut Gon up was to open the damn window. 

He unlocked it and cranked it up. It creaked all the way up, fell a little, and stayed up after Killua gave it a good shove. The paint on the wood was chipping and frayed as he leaned out and said, “I’ll punch you in the nuts, Freecss.”

“You’ll have to help me up to do that, unless you want to jump down here?” Gon said.

Killua huffed and perched his elbow on the sill, his chin on his hand. “Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that? Your collarbone isn’t any better.”

Gon gestured to the state of his nonexistent sling. Killua shook his head—that wouldn’t cut it. Gon pocketed his phone and stepped closer, but his head only  _just_ reached the edge of the window frame. He clasped a hand to the wood and said, “False alarm. The inflammation’s gone, but I can’t be on the field for at least another week.”

“Yeah, and I’m not about to help you crack your damn collarbone again,” Killua said. 

Gon pouted, sticking his chin to the wood and looking straight up at Killua like some dog begging for scraps at the table. “Please? Pretty please?” he said. 

“So if I ask Knuckle if you apologized, he’s gonna say…?” Killua prompted, rolling his eyes away from the precious sight of Gon begging. It’d be better if he was on his knees.

“He’ll say I was a perfect angel and said sorry,” Gon said. When Killua pulled out his phone to text Knuckle, Gon groaned, “What, you don’t believe me?”

“Sorry my trust is down the drain right now,” Killua muttered as he studied his phone screen. He couldn’t quite see the words—it was all muscle memory at that point—because Gon was in the corner of his eye begging Killua to bring him back up to his level. Killua ground his teeth together and assembled a message to Knuckle. After sending it off, he put his phone down and settled in to wait. 

He walked away from the window and Gon was instantly chattering again. “How was your day? How was work?”

“It was fine, and work was fine.”

“Aw, come on, you can do better than that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Killua huffed, picking up his pudding bowl. He took a big scoop of chocolate and plopped it in his mouth as he wandered back over. Gon was on the tips of his toes now, peering over the windowsill. Killua knelt down and put the bowl in front of him, waving the spoon around. “It was boring, Calc was blah, yada-yada-yada.”

“Oh, well, how is Calc going? It’s supposed to be super hard, right?”

“Yeah, it’s hard.”

Gon snickered and said, “How hard?” in a suggestive, sultry tone.

Killua frowned. He put the spoon down and said, “If you’re here for a booty call, Freecss, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I’m not here for that! Well, not  _that_ specifically. I’m here for whatever you want to do,” Gon said, firmly, like he had rehearsed this on his scooter ride from Frat Row. 

Killua scowled at him and went back to his pudding. He scooped a dollop into his mouth and licked his lips at the taste of the protein powder on his tongue. He could feel Gon’s eyes on him the entire time. 

“That’s a lot of pudding,” Gon said.

“What, are you calling me fat now?” Killua said.

“No! I just—It’s an entire bowl—”

“I’m fucking with you, dude, Christ,” Killua huffed. He didn’t expect Gon to take him seriously. Back before Retz, Gon would have said something like, “ _I like ‘em thick_ .” Killua couldn’t blame the guy, but it still pissed him off that Gon even needed to suck up to him. 

It was such an irrational, backwards spike of anger that Killua took a moment to silence every sharp comment on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t about to blow up at Gon. He hated being so irrational. He was just grateful that he wasn’t hysterical right then and there. 

His phone buzzed and Gon instantly perked up. Killua picked it up and stared at it lazily. Gon leant into his view, but Killua moved his phone so he wouldn’t have to see Gon’s face. 

“Well? What’d he say?” Gon asked. 

“That you’re a little bitch-ass hoe,” Killua said, chucking his phone over his shoulder, “but also that you apologized, so I guess it’s whatever.”

“Yay! Okay, help me up—”

“Nah,” Killua said. He stuck his spoon in the pudding so it stood up like a flag of surrender. Gon had his hands braced on the window sill, only to freeze at Killua’s response. Gon stared at Killua, his eyes looking bigger from the deep, yellowing bruises bracketing them. “I’m feeling pretty irrational right now and just wanna eat some pudding.”

“Well, let me eat pudding with you! You can talk to me,” Gon insisted, fast and borderline panicked. Killua tugged the pudding away like he half-expected Gon to take it hostage. When he started to bring the window down, Gon’s voice turned squeaky as he cried, “Wait! Wait, please, let me help you—I just want to talk with you—Killua—!”

Killua waited for Gon to move his fingers—he’d give the guy _that_ much courtesy, at the very least. As expected, Gon didn’t move. He stared helplessly at Killua through the window, still up on the tips of his toes. 

He started closing the window on Gon’s fingers, and it creaked every inch of the way as Killua said, “Then perish.”

Gon squeaked when the window touched his fingertips. He yanked his hands back and Killua took the opportunity to slam the window shut and lock it. He followed up with swinging the curtains closed.

Killua stood there on the mattress, staring at the silhouette outlining where Gon still stood in the window. Gon said nothing, though, and didn’t move for another minute or so. A minute was a  _long ass time_ , though, and Killua never fully fathomed what an entire minute felt like when waiting for Gon Freecss to stop staring into his window. As if Killua would bend to Gon’s sheer will and determination. 

When Gon  _did_ leave, though, Killua was too strung out to sit down. He had thought the run would ebb some of that energy, but alas, it was all for naught now. He cursed under his breath and went to the door where he resumed his position at the couch across from where Zushi sat, looking startled to see Killua back looking worse than before.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a dick pic then,” Zushi said.

“Fuck off,” Killua laughed, kicking his foot out. Zushi deflected it, grinning like the devil he was.

* * *

It was Thirsty Thursday and despite Gon’s calls and efforts, Killua never reciprocated. He left Gon on read, didn’t pick up his phone, and—even worse—completely ignored Gon on the sidewalk that day on campus.

The situation was more dire than Gon anticipated. 

He had hoped his Grand Breakup Scheme timeline would take no more than a month, but he couldn’t wait an entire month. If he wanted Killua back, he couldn’t waste anymore time, so the timeline required tweaking. A  _lot_ of tweaking.

_This is gonna fuck up my grades, that’s for sure_ , he thought as he weighed his lab test in the morning over Getting Killua Back. The answer was obvious. 

And, so, Gon called Retz to make plans and then promptly knocked on every door in the frat to open the gates of Hell bright and early before noon.

He dragged Uvogin down first, since this all required his participation—and his game console. Uvogin was half awake and groaning all the way from the third floor, saying, “Can’t this wait until, oh, I dunno,  _after_ twelve?”

“No, it’s crunch time,” Gon said, hurrying to the TV. He turned it on, grabbed the game disk, and held it out frantically to Uvo. He pranced from one foot to the other in a panic. Retz was due in an hour, and it’d take about that much time to get everyone fed and rowdy.

Just as planned, Gon had the entire frat house in full swing by noon on the dot. He tore open bags of Cheetos and Doritos, popped popcorn, and investigated the Monster situation in the communal cabinet he never once touched. With a devious grin on his face, he grabbed the black, neon-green can and ran off with it back to the living room. 

The instant the guys saw Gon’s latest discovery, they were pausing the match and cheering him on. Someone handed him a pocket knife, which he opened with every intent of stabbing the base of the can and shotgunning it in less time than it’d take for him to regret chugging an entire energy drink in one go.

He was a Keg Champion, though, despite Knuckle’s reigning first placement there. The energy drink burned less and less with each second until it was all drained. He crushed the can to his forehead and threw it on the ground, screaming, as the guys crowded him with cheers and shook him around. He could feel the energy drink sloshing in his gut, buzzing through his system. 

He staggered out of a linebacker’s hold on his shoulders and stumbled straight into none other than Retz. He only realized it when he heard her squeak out, “Hey… Gon—”

“Oh! Retz!” he cried, spinning around.

He skidded to a halt so fast his brain turned to pudding. She was wearing a cute red sundress that had him weak at the knees, and he nearly  _did_ fall over had someone not grabbed him from behind, straightened him, and said, “Buddy, it’s your turn.”

Gon looked back and found Knuckle standing there, forever a pillar of support. “Oh, right!” Gon said, back to reality. As Knuckle walked off, Gon pointed to the game and said, “It’s my turn to play.”

“I thought we had plans today?” Retz said.

“Gon!” Knuckle shouted. 

Gon mouthed a quick, “Sorry!” to Retz before bounding off to take the controller. As Gon dove into a fearsome Mortal Kombat match against Shoot, Retz stood watching from the sidelines with a vague sense of discomfort on her face. She relented, though, and was last seen heading to the basement to hang out in Gon’s room.

Gon’s shenanigans didn’t end there. 

While his teammates had to recover Friday for the game, Gon was alive and well and back in full swing. He may or may not have bombed the lab test that Friday, but at least he bombed half a bottle of jäger at the Republic, right? Perhaps that was exaggerating, but according to Retz’ report after the game, Gon had spent the entire day wasted beyond belief and it was a damn surprise Coach Mackernassey didn’t catch on. If he did, his Coach had no intention of ratting Gon out. Coach, along with the majority of regular players, were desperate to have Gon back on the field as soon as possible before their competition mounted later in the season.

That night after Retz refused a bottle of tequila that was offered to Gon during the celebratory party, Gon could be found stumbling down to the basement with Retz at his heels. She caught up and caught him before he could fall. 

His head was a foggy, fluffy blur that swirled like the San Francisco fog over the Bay. He wanted to see the city skyline. He wanted to take Retz and Killua up to the highest peak and wait for dawn to arrive. He needed to ask her that much, and so he opened his mouth—

—and burped.

“Drink this,” Retz said, sticking a bottle in his hand.

“No more,” he moaned, shoving it back to her.

“It’s water—You’ll thank me in the morning,” she said. 

_Morning_ … Gon thought, feeling all bubbly inside once again. He took the water bottle and sat on the edge of his bed while Retz took off his baseball cap and prompted him to toe off his shoes. All the while, he thought about how  _great_ morning was when he’d wake up to Killua’s alarm and get to snuggle him through the snooze alarm. He felt warm all over just thinking about it—

—and then he remembered that he wouldn’t be waking up to Killua. 

“Are you gonna be okay here? Do you need me to get you anything before I go?” Retz asked as Gon put the water bottle down. The bubbles in his head were all turning to water, sloshing about in his skull and making his eyes heat up. 

“C-Could you stay with me tonight?” Gon asked, reaching for her hand. 

“Oh, hun, I left all my stuff at my apartment…” He knew she’d never leave her things at his place—she wouldn’t have an excuse then. 

“Stay until I fall asleep then?” he said, his voice tired and weak against the water bottle. 

He couldn’t raise his eyes above the waistband of her flowery skirt without tearing up. The very thought of falling asleep alone was unbearable—it made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin, restless, constricted by his own desperation to hold and be held. 

Retz walked away. Gon felt himself deteriorating—he was a burden, he annoyed her, asked too much of her, he was too much, he  _felt_ too much—but then the lights in the room went out and Retz put a knee to the mattress next to his hip. She wrapped him up in her warm, comforting embrace. He let out a relieved sigh, shaking his head against her shoulder. He buried his eyes against her neck. 

“Of course,” she said, quietly, a hand to his hair. 

They laid down together—Gon nearest the wall and Retz at the edge. Gon nestled in close so his head rested beneath her chin and he could feel the moment she relaxed against him. The weight of her arm around his shoulders became firm and solid in comparison to the rest of his worries. He pulled her close with a hand to her back, soothing his thumb against the open back of her blouse. 

When it came down to it, it was one in the morning, they were both exhausted, and soon, they were both fast asleep despite the distant chatter of the party upstairs. In the end, Retz spent the night, but that news came with a rude awakening when Retz opened her eyes and turned pale with dread.

“Oh—Oh no,” she said, bolting up with a start. Sunlight was trickling in through the window, casting a yellow glow through the room as Retz put a hand to her messy hair and checked her phone for the time. “ _Shit_ —Gon, you know I can’t stay the night—”

“Cinderella, it’s  _fiiine_ ,” Gon groaned into the pillow. “You’re pretty with or without the ballgown…”

Retz hopped to her feet. She was still wearing her shoes, still fully dressed, and still fully stressed out. Gon sighed and pushed himself up, saying, “Just tell him you stayed over ‘cause it was late and you didn’t want to walk home by yourself.”

“He woulda called me an Uber. There’s literally  _no_ excuse—”

“Your friend’s cat was in the animal hospital and you were moral support.”

“That’s too big of a lie, Gon—”

“Because you love me and you didn’t want me to choke on my own vomit,” he offered.

“Both of those are true, but you know he’d just tell you to choke and die anyway,” she said, hands on her hips. 

The worry creasing her brow brought Gon to his feet, albeit shakily. He felt sore for no good reason at all, and his head was stuffy, but it didn’t matter when he had caused her so much concern. 

He tugged at her hand and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll talk to him if you need me to.”

Retz sighed and said, “No, you don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t put you through that.”

Gon pressed his lips to her blonde hair where she had braided it back the night before into a bun. It was falling out and his kiss did little to help, but it brought a smile to her face as she gave him a quick squeeze around the torso. “Love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against her hair, closing his eyes for the brief moment she held on. 

“Text me later so we can hang out? If Omo doesn’t have me on house arrest, that is,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 

He nodded and watched as she pulled away and took her purse on the way out. She smiled at him as she shut the door, and he stood there seeping in pure, unadulterated, wholesome warmth for a solid minute and a half before he was back in motion and searching for something to numb the aching sensation in his skull.

As Gon grabbed his shower shit, he thought about Retz’ brother—the one and only issue he had ever had with his relationship with Retz, but Omokage was nothing Gon couldn’t handle. In fact, he was more than willing to fight the guy if it came down to it, which it had come to in the past. 

The night he snuck into what used to be Retz’ room back in Chicago, Gon had spent the better part of an hour A) apologizing to Retz’ parents after Omo ratted him out, and then B) arguing with Omo about the integrity of Gon’s hormones. Sure, sex was always on his mind back then (and now…), but Retz was never on that page. If they would ever go that far, it’d be on her terms, and Omo never believed him. Omo never quite looked past the image of childhood Retz at St. Judes’ oncology unit. It had been a brief but scarring period for all of their family—one that Gon never lingered on.

Retz wasn’t, nor would she ever, be too weak to fight back.

Omokage, on the other hand, was convinced that their relationship was unbalanced. That Gon asked too much of her. That he was too demanding. Self-centered. Selfish. 

Gon scratched at his hair, sighing as he locked the basement bathroom door. He set his shampoo on the tiles outside of the shower and started the faucet as he thought about Retz.  _I just need to be a bad boyfriend—I don’t need to be a bad friend_ , he told himself, but all he could think of were the reasons his fraternity brothers’ were without girlfriends. 

1) Because they were sleazy.

2) Because they danced with other girls.

3) Because they got too drunk, too messy, inconsiderate, uninvested.

He couldn’t do the first two without ruining everything with Killua again. He was well aware of his neediness, and it was borderline inconsiderate at times. Retz knew how to handle him in those situations, and he knew when the back off, but with Killua…

Killua  _encouraged_ it.

Killua  _teased_ it out of him. 

Gon could never contain himself around Killua. He was like a kid in a candy shop with mom’s credit card for the tab. He’d indulge that shit like  _mad_ , and when he exhausted Killua’s affections, Gon went back to pestering Knuckle and Uvogin who treated him more like a lovable puppy in want of affection. 

He had no off-switch, and that amused Killua and Retz to no end.

At least, from what he could tell.

His head felt heavy with cotton and it all became saturated in the hot steam of the shower within a matter of seconds. He stepped under the stream with a shaky sigh, his mind continuously revolving around Killua’s swollen eyes after the night Gon spent lying side by side with him. Gon always thought crying was a relief, but after that, after spending the entire night on the brink of tears himself, he couldn’t picture Killua any other way. 

All through the semester, he had been stuck in a loop of denial. The thought of Killua still kept him warm and fuzzy inside, brimming with electric energy after the breakup. He used to be able to think of his favorite moments—of Spring Break, summer, that time he forced Killua to Fisherman’s Warf (just to see the sea lions) even though Killua thought it was “ _for tacky bitches_ .” 

It was all gone from his memory and replaced with tear tracks.

Gon didn’t realize he was crying until a pained gasp came out of his mouth, his breathing erratic and dreadfully heavy in his chest. He put a hand to the shower tiles and tried to hold it back—he never used to hold it back until the last time he spent the night with Killua—but  _fuck_ , it hurt so terribly to know exactly how much of an idiot he was. 

He hated making mistakes.

He never wanted to hurt Killua.

_But it’s not a mistake_ , he told himself, his forehead pressed to the wall where his arms stood as a barrier against the gross, frat bathroom tiles.  _You would have regretted leaving Retz behind. It would have been just as painful_ .

Gon sobbed once, the act too excruciating to bear for a second time, before slamming the sides of his fists on the tiles. He pushed off, rubbed his eyes clear of tears, and scrubbed his face under the shower stream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me I've just got something stuck in my eye 🥺
> 
> P much in every fic I have A CHAPTER that consists of a MASSIVE thoughtful essay that's supposed to be, like, THE THESIS of the entire fic. In NFxSD, it was when Killua realized his mistakes after getting off the Greyhound and seeing Gon again. In this fic, I am SO EXCITED FOR YOU GUYS TO READ IT I spent all of this weekend just THINKING ABOUT IT AND WRITING IT.


	8. M.I.A.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 4 Lucifer WHO??? In which Retz is Eve, Gon is Lucifer, and Killua is Chloe.

**“G** on’s been acting kind of weird,” Retz said over the straw of an iced matcha. Killua didn’t know how he wound up leaving his shift at the same time Retz emerged from Starbucks, but there they were, walking in the same direction because Killua’s bus stop just so happened to be a block away from Frat Row. 

“In what way?” Killua asked, because that seemed to be the appropriate response. Secretly, he was interested in what the Hell Gon was doing to make Retz worry.

“He’s been drinking a lot more… and he’s canceled plans twice now. Last time it was because he made plans with Knuckle too. I was already at the place, too! I’ve never been stood up before, and by my own boyfriend no less.”

_Knuckle_ , Killua thought. It had to be a part of Gon’s grand master plan to get Retz to break up with him.

“Wow, what an asshole,” Killua said. Internally, he grimaced and thought,  _Subtle_ .

Retz sighed, scratching the back of her head. “Yeah, and he’s been eating really poorly. You know, last week, I walked in on him shotgunning a Monster.”

_Holy shit_ , Killua thought, eyes wide. He covered up his laugh by clearing his throat, brow furrowed, and said, “Uh, yeah, that’s… not healthy whatsoever. I’d be disappointed, too.” But mostly, he was just impressed.

“It’s making me wonder if he’s always been like this when I wasn’t here and he’s just been, I dunno… covering it up?” she said, and the worry on her face had Killua rethinking Gon and Retz entirely. If Retz really thought that Gon would change his habits for her and that he was slipping now… 

“I don’t really know. But if this is how he is, maybe you should show him you can compete?” he suggested.

Her eyes brightened for a moment before confusion set in. She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“Like, if he’s shotgunning Monster, you should shotgun back.”

“Why?”

“Show him you can play at his level. Like, even if he changes you’ll stick with him. Maybe he was worried you’d break up with him if you knew how he really was,” he said.

As Retz mulled his words over, Killua had to hold back a shit-eating grin the size of Kentucky. He didn’t know why, but fucking with Freecss gave him a  _high_ of some kind that spawned from his minor God complex. If Gon was going to fuck with him, he’d screw with Gon right back.

Besides, the bitter part of him wanted Gon to break up with her, not the other way around.

“Okay,” she said with a firm nod. “I can do that. Like, I  _love_ all that stuff—”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean,  _guilty pleasures_ and all that,” she said with a shake of her shoulders. “But I’ve just been on this overly healthy diet my entire life. I’m in college, dammit! I want to drink beer, and eat Cheetos, and- and play Final Fantasy Football!”

“Those are… two entirely different games.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Final Fantasy and Fantasy Football,” he said. She put a finger to her lips, fascinated. “But, I mean, yeah! I support you. You do you, Ritz Cracker.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Wait, so you’ve never had Cheetos before?” he asked, and when she shook her head, Killua thought he might keel over and die. He put a hand to his heart and said, “Jesus Christ, what rock have  _you_ been living under? Make that your top priority.”

At his bus stop, Retz gave him a hug before bounding off to the crosswalk. He felt a little disoriented after their exchange, and his wonderment about Gon’s recent actions made him a little sick to his stomach.

* * *

Thus was how Gon found himself in the peculiar situation of walking in on the guys playing Smash Bros—with Retz at the center of them all screaming, “ _JIGGLYPUFF, YOU WHORE!_ ”

Gon paused in the living room archway, his eyes catching on the sight of Retz in one of his ratty middle school cutoff t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts. Just as he crossed the threshold, a roar of screaming picked up and Retz was on her feet next to a disgruntled and furious Uvogin. 

“I’ll fuck you up, Ritz Cracker!” Uvo screamed.

Retz slammed her feet down, screaming, “ _Try me!_ ” just as she smashed Uvo’s Jigglypuff into the sun. The entire floor shook as Gon watched from the outskirts as Retz threw herself at Uvo, screaming, “Oh! Oh, shit, did you  _see that?!_ ”

_What the fuck is happening_ … Gon thought.

It was one thing to find out that Retz not only played video games but was actually  _good_ at them, but what startled Gon the most was when he later caught her pulling down a bag of Cheeto puffs from his food cabinet.

“Are… those for the guys?” Gon asked as Retz popped it open with a grin.

“Nope, they’re for us,” she said with a broad smile. She winked at him before moving on to join the guys in the living room, tossing a puff in her mouth with a pleased hum. Gon was too confused to follow, so he missed the moment she hummed, “Wow, these  _are_ great!” It was drowned out by the flurry of commotion in the living room, anyway.

One of the many things Retz despised, from what Gon understood, was an inability to concentrate—specifically when studying. It was normal for Gon to slack off while studying, but Retz had been adamant throughout their grade school days: Stay on task, get good grades. She was likely the reason he ever graduated high school. His brain was scattered more often than not, and it was easy to get distracted by Retz’ cute, pouty face she made when studying. It was just as easy getting distracted by Killua’s lips, but that was another matter entirely.

So, during one of their study sessions that week, Gon intentionally distracted himself. He opened twenty tabs all at once for various sites and went surfing through the web with the level of concentration that could get him to pass a midterm—if he was actually studying, that is. In the middle of pretending to be invested in cars, he caught Retz peering over his shoulder from where she was sitting crosslegged beside him on the bed. 

She bellyflopped next to him, her shoulder pressed to his, and pointed to the pickup truck and said, “I don’t believe a word they say about eco systems. If you give people the  _option_ to be  _slightly_ more eco-friendly at the expense of acceleration, no one’s gonna use it! Besides, you’re not gonna buy a  _pickup truck_ and  _not_ gun it.”

Gon put a hand to his forehead and thought,  _What’s going on…?_

Watching movies and shows was never really something he and Retz did back in the day. It was a distraction from classes, and their time was better spent outside anyway. But the next day when Gon sat down with every intention of watching a show he couldn’t care less about for the sake of annoying her, she sat with him and passed him a soda. 

“Oh, I love this one,” she said. She cracked open the can and took a sip while Gon stared at her, completely jarred. “Have you ever seen Pacific Rim? I’ve heard it’s a lot like this and  _really_ good.”

At this point, Gon was in a constant state of bafflement. When she turned to look at him, blue eyes bright, he said, “Who’d you hear that from?”

She put the soda to her lips and said, “Oh, Killua,” before taking a sip.

_Killua_ , he thought, stunned. Retz never even watched  _Disney_ films as a kid. The first R rated movie they watched was together and not until they were seniors in high school—even  _then_ they found it boring. 

If Retz was getting advice on all of the bullshit Gon was doing, Killua could very well be her informant. 

_Is he intentionally sabotaging me?_ he thought, eyes widening. The instant he came to terms with that, it was all he could do to keep from both screaming in frustration and smiling like an idiot. Of course Killua would throw a tantrum like this. He was absolutely the type for diabolical revenge. 

The most ridiculous part of it, though, was how giddy he felt at the thought of Retz going to Killua for  _advice_ about  _him_ .

He snickered a little as he took a drink and let the carbonation turn his tongue numb. He thought about how Killua refused to relay all of the things he missed about their relationship. It was too late, though, because Gon already got his entire ego-boost from this whole exchange.

That night, Retz’ brother swung by to pick her up. That seemed to be the newest rule after Retz accidentally spent the night, but Gon didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it to the latter option—having her walk the entire way to their apartment across campus. More often than not, Gon accompanied her, but he couldn’t deny the convenience of Omo’s vehicle privileges, especially when the weather was getting colder and colder each day.

Gon walked her out to the front gate of Sigma. His eyes felt weird and dry from staring at his computer screen for so long even after taking his contacts out, but he was  _far_ from tired. Retz tweaked his glasses affectionately and said, “Don’t stay up too late, you’ve got practice in the morning.”

He rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, but I’m not going  _ham_ tomorrow.” He’d be back to the basics. Before long he’d be doing drills again, but for now, he was given half of the practice time and extra PT. 

Retz pouted at him, hands on her hips. 

“ _Fine_ , I won’t stay up late,” he said, smiling as he reached a hand back, scrubbing it across his hair. Without the sling, he felt  _normal_ again, and that extra week with the sling gave him more mobility with his shoulder. 

“Okay,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He reeled her in for a hug and she groaned into it, reluctant. Her brother was watching them through the passenger seat window, glaring at Gon, who waved sweetly to him before letting go. “Love ya, hun,” she said as she swung off of the curb with a spin, a wave, and ducked into the passenger’s seat. 

Gon waved after her, and kept waving even as she giggled and mouthed for him to stop. He jogged next to the car, low to the ground, making an absolute fool out of himself as Retz cracked up and Omo flipped him off before revving the engine and peeling off.

Gon slowed to a walk, changed direction, and went on the hunt for a Lime scooter. He tracked one down a block away, unlocked it, and flew off down the one-way street to Killua’s apartment.

With the wind in his hair and his glasses secured, he curved around the roundabout a few blocks away from Killua’s apartment complex. He could see it up on the hill, on the corner of the street where an intersection of brightly colored homes and white, decorative moulds spread across the street. He cut straight down the middle of the road before taking a detour to avoid their living room window. He cut straight up the ledge of the alley behind the house, the scooter struggling up the incline before tearing towards the back.

He slammed on the breaks, locked the bike, and took off running to Killua’s bedroom window. He ducked low underneath the kitchen window, crouched close to the dusty white siding on the house. He ducked below the AC unit and popped back up in Killua’s windowsill, jumping to peer past the single curtain pulled over half of the pane. 

There, he caught sight of Killua at his desk, partly turned towards the center of the room. When Gon jumped up, Killua startled, and stared in shock when Gon jumped up again and made eye contact. 

Killua pushed away from the desk, looking mildly horrified at the sight of Gon suddenly in his window.  _I’ll need to start keeping the blinds down_ , he thought as he unlocked the window and pulled it up. The frame creaked the entire way, and the instant there was a sizable gap, Gon took several steps back and, with his arms back, swung forward with several quick leaps like a diver approaching the end of the board.

He kicked up, grabbed the ledge, and hoisted himself up with a sneaker on the siding. Killua staggered back, cursing, as Gon twisted in and flopped onto the bed. He bounced on the mattress and sprung up an instant later.

Killua stepped back onto the wooden floorboards, a hand out to catch himself on the desk. Gon gripped the back of his desk chair, leaning close, eyes just as wild as that goddamn gymnast stunt he did through the window. 

“Are you sabotaging me, Zoldyck?” Gon said, and Killua shivered at the obvious challenge in his voice. He was riled up and Killua could feel the instant urge to respond with a teasing reply. 

Killua’s eyes widened as he watched Gon catch his breath, his crooked smile, those bright, amber eyes. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Internally, he was thinking,  _I gotta stop opening the window for this guy_ .

“So are you pleading the fifth?”

“I’m not pleading for your dick, if that’s what you really mean.”  _I gotta stop opening my damn mouth_ .

The fire in Gon’s eyes burned straight through Killua and set a hot shiver down his spine. Gon’s attention slid down—to Killua’s mouth, his throat, the broad plain of his chest and shoulders. 

“I am,” he said, breathless, his eyes returning to Killua’s. Heat swept across Killua’s entire being. “Tell me what you want.”

“For you to break up with Retz.”

“And then what.”

“To fuck you,” Killua said, strained. He clutched the edge of his desk, knuckles white. He could still hear those breathy sounds Gon used to make, whispered in his ears. He wanted to make Gon  _scream_ . “So hard.”

“Holy shit,” Gon said.

“What do you want.”

“What you just said.”

“And then what?”

Gon swallowed hard. When Gon’s eyes drifted down, Killua couldn’t help himself. His attention caught at the edge of his boxers over the hem of his sweatpants. When he looked up, he was stunned by the wary edge in Gon’s eyes, at the light glinting on the tears that turned his eyes watery behind his glasses. 

“I can’t tell you,” Gon said, quieter than before. His voice was strained as his eyes lingered at Killua’s hand on the edge of the desk. 

“Why?” The question left Killua’s mouth without clearance. He hadn’t meant to say anything at all to that because he knew the answer. He hadn’t thought of it, through all of this, even after his suggestion to get Retz to break up with Gon. If Gon regretted breaking up with him, he’d regret pushing Retz away just as much. If not more—and that terrified Killua. 

Gon would be miserable with both of them. 

Evidently, Gon hadn’t thought of that until now, either. After everything, what Gon  _really_ wanted was something Killua never considered as an option.

Gon sniffed as he pulled his glasses off and rubbed hastily at his eyes. “Never mind,” Gon said, and Killua’s chest tightened.  _No_ . “I should—I should go.” _Don’t let him back off_ .

“Gon—” Killua started, letting go of the desk. His hands trembled as he followed Gon to the window. “Hang on, you can’t just— _Gon_ —”

“ _No_ ,” Gon snapped, standing at the base of Killua’s mattress. Killua stilled. Gon couldn’t look him in the eye as he said, “Just because I love you  _and_ Retz doesn’t mean I should have either of you. Just because I love someone doesn’t mean I have to  _have them_ .”

Gon swung himself onto the sill and, as quickly as he had jumped in, jumped out. Killua leant out the window and watched Gon walk back to the alley, rubbing at his eyes with his glasses hanging at his side. 

14:56  **RETZ:** Have you seen Gon lately?

15:00  **KILL:** No why

15:00  **RETZ:** He just hasn’t been around

15:00  **KILL:** What do you mean he “hasn’t been around”

15:00  **_Ritz Cracker_ ** 🙈 _is typing…_

15:01  **KILL:** Have you checked Sigma?

15:01  **RETZ:** He’s not there

15:01  **RETZ:** I’m worried D: I’m sure he’s still going to classes 

15:01  **RETZ:** I’m sure he’s fine

15:02  **KILL:** Have you ambushed the locker room

15:02  **RETZ:** I can’t ambush the men’s locker room D:

* * *

15:05  **_Kill Zold Yack_ ** _is typing…_

15:05  **KILL:** Dude is Freecss with you

15:06  **KNUCKS:** Nope nope 

15:06  **KILL:** Is he going to practices?

15:06  **KNUCKS:** Yeah what’s this about??

15:06  **KILL:** Retz is worried or something idk

15:07  **KNUCKS:** Yeah, “Retz”  😏

15:07  **KILL:** I’m serious dude I think I mighta fucked something up

15:07  **KILL:** Not me specifically but

15:07  **KILL:** You know

15:08  **KNUCKS:** Did you two fuck or what

15:08  **KILL:** NO

15:08  **KILL:** Why does everyone think that??

15:09  **KNUCKS:** Damn okay sis

The stadium was quiet all except for the sound of Retz’ heels clicking alongside Killua’s sneakers. Killua felt weird walking through the stadium nowadays—even walking  _near it_ felt wrong. It was a place he used to frequent. He knew the men’s locker room there inside and out. Not many kids at their university could say that. 

They walked the long, shallow ramp to the ground level where the locker rooms connected to the field. Retz had her hands clasped to the strap of her satchel, twisting and untwisting it from around her fingers. Killua knew she was worried just from looking at her reflection in the windows. 

When he looked directly at her, though, she put on a smile and said, “Thanks for this. I’d do it myself, but I’m not  _that_ close with his teammates.”

“Gon would probably have an aneurysm anyway if you walked in there,” he said, remembering the times he walked in on Uvo with his complete ass out in the locker room. Uvo had the bad habit of not wearing clothes in the locker room, apparently, and Gon never blinked twice until Killua was there. “ _Put some clothes on! We have_ guests _!_ ” 

The windows stretched from floor to ceiling across the wall to their left shoulders. Their shadows cast along the award wall where trophies were secured behind locked glass cases. Famous jerseys were mounted in framed cases, intermittent between the concrete columns holding the vaulted ceiling up. Killua glanced over them all dismissively. He had waited in this hallway enough times to know the gist of the photos and which ones had Freecss’ face immortalized in newspaper clippings.

“I think Gon’s gonna break up with me,” Retz whispered.

Something sick and painful pricked at Killua’s chest. He looked over at her where she walked ahead, just barely. He could see her profile, though, and where she had masked all of her worry with a bold sense of… He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Impassivity.

That hurt more.

“Do you… need moral support?” he asked, awkwardly.

She shook her head and looked back at him with a small smile. “No, I’ll be fine. I just wanted you to know since I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to be friends after this. So when I ghost you after this…”

Silence followed. Killua hated it. 

He reached back, scratching at his hair as he said, “How can you be so sure?”

She sighed and said, “I found an open Amazon tab on his computer.”

_Well, I wasn’t expecting_ that _as a warning sign_ , he thought. “And… what’s the significance of that?” he asked, brow furrowed. 

She clenched her fists in front of her and said, “I  _hate_ Amazon. Jeff Bezos can suck my metaphorical dick.”

“Wow,” he said. 

“And Gon knows that,” she said, hands clasped back onto her satchel strap. “He’s never bought anything off of Amazon before, and he’s been acting so weird lately and I can’t help but think that he’s trying to convince me of something. Amazon would be his last resort.

“But when Gon needs to do something  _serious_ that makes him uncomfortable, he does it in person. So I think he’s been avoiding me so he can tell me in person without crying. Conflict upsets him, you know.”

_Yeah, I know_ , he thought. He had forced Gon to confront him through text and over the phone more than once in their relationship. It wasn’t that Killua couldn’t handle face-to-face conflict—that  _definitely_ wasn’t it—but he and Gon had boundaries back then. They didn’t spend every second of the day together. Killua had walls up that he didn’t know existed until Gon left him abruptly with all of his defenses down. 

Gon made him vulnerable.

They arrived outside of the men’s locker room then. Retz took a seat at one of the benches like she was preparing for an interview and waiting for the HR rep to wave her in. She was dressed nice, too. Heels, high-waisted slacks, and a yellow blouse underneath a thick, flannel coat. Killua wanted to say something, like, “ _Okay, wait right here. I’ll be right back._ ” but it sounded too fake in his head. 

Killua pushed open the door to the long stretch of tiled flooring to the locker room. The voices of Gon’s teammates reverberated through the florescent tunnel. He felt dizzy as he stepped into the open, stale air of the locker room where he found Gon’s back to him, across the locker room, sitting shirtless on the bench in nothing but his workout leggings and shorts. 

Killua was frozen in the entrance, staring at Gon until one of Gon’s teammates said, “Hey, it’s Zoldyck!” The instant he did, Gon’s head whipped around and the other guys went, “ _Ooo!_ ”

Killua swallowed hard. He nodded towards the exit, wordlessly, before walking away and hoping that Gon would take the hint. He waited in the corridor for Gon to come out, tugging on a cutoff t-shirt.

Killua didn’t  _want_ to say that Gon looked like shit. He wanted to blame it on the bruises, but those were long gone and replaced with sleepless shadows under his eyes. Gon caught his eyes once before lowering them and saying, “What is it?”

“Follow me,” Killua said, and left for the exit. 

He pushed open the door and held it for Gon. He kept walking, back the way he came, and looked over his shoulder only once. He looked only after Retz called Gon’s name and less than a second later, Gon was sobbing. Killua jogged up the ramp to escape the stadium before he could hear more. When he was out in the open autumn air, though, all he could feel was raw, aching guilt.

In the stadium, just outside of the men’s locker room, Retz took Gon by the hand and ushered him into the women’s restroom across the hall. The stadium halls were loud and echoed and in the restroom, Gon’s sniffles were muted. She gathered up paper towels and handed them to him without question, and after splashing water in his face and drying it, Retz wrapped her arms around him from behind and pushed her cheek to his shoulder blades. The heat from his practiced muscles and the smell of his sweat comforted her. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he gasped, leaning against the sink. 

She rubbed her hands over his chest, easing the sharpness of his breaths with ever pull. “Tell me what’s bothering you, hun,” she said. 

“I-I can’t tell you,” he said, and she felt the words strung tight against his chest. “You’ll be mad at me—”

“I won’t be mad, whatever it is,” she reassured, shaking her head. She put her forehead just between his shoulder blades before stepping back. She moved to stand at his side, glancing at his reflection in the mirror before turning to study his profile.

His bottom lip wavered. His hand clutched the paper towel against the edge of the sink as he whispered, “I-I need you to break up with me.”

The tension in the back of her throat nearly snapped. She swallowed against it, though. He wouldn’t ask this of her if he could say the words himself. “Tell me why and I’ll consider it,” she said.

“ _Please_ , Retz—”

“Tell me why,” she demanded. He glanced over at her, eyes wide, red, and watery. She rubbed his arm and said, “You can tell me, hun.”

Several minutes passed while Gon got his shit together. When he could speak without wavering, he told her the truth while the two of them sat on the bathroom tiles, their backs to the wall. Gon confessed to having been on Tinder last fall, until he and Killua started to date. At the mention of Killua, he closed his eyes the instant he saw Retz out of the corner of his eye putting her hand to her mouth. 

He put his elbow to his raised knee, his hand in his hair. He shook his head as he said, “I shouldn’t be dating right now. You deserve someone who can give you all of their dedication and affection and I can’t—”

Retz bristled. She knew Gon well enough to call bullshit. She knew him better than  _anyone_ —better than her own brother, herself. She had dedicated her entire adolescence to him and he had done the same for her.

“Bullshit,” Retz said. She was surprised by how strained her voice came out, and she couldn’t stop staring at him. She wanted to capture every minute detail of the panic that set into his expression when she called him on his lie. “Who told you that?”

“N-No one. I—”

“Gon, you’re the most dedicated person I know. Not everyone can say that they’re able to give their all to two different people.”

“But I  _can’t—_ ”

“And I say bullshit!” she cried. “If we gave our all to one task, we’d never multitask! We’d never do more than one thing at a time. We’d never have more than one hobby, more than one child. It’d be either school or sports, love art or love video games, love  _The Walking Dead_ or  _Pacific Rim_ or whatever it is the kids watch these days. You can have the same level of passion for  _anything_ you love, Gon. I don’t want you to feel  _bad_ just because you’ve fallen in love with something  _new_ . I’m just glad you  _told me_ so we can figure it out together.”

“But everyone’s right! I shouldn’t be putting either of you in this situation no matter how much I want both of you in my life. So  _please_ , Retz, can you just—” He broke off, his voice cracking. He covered his mouth with his closed fists to his trembling lips. 

Retz sat back against the wall. She pinched her fingers over her chin and stayed there, studying the wall across from them. Gon gave her the time to think, to process, and to fully understand both of their positions in this. 

She thought of Killua, and she refused to give in to instantaneous guilt and shame from having tampered with his life. The feeling was so overwhelming that it took a severe amount of mental strength to wrangle it and tame it into a manageable ball that she could shove to the back of her mind and label as this: This Is Why Gon Wanted Nothing To Do With Either Of Them. 

She dropped her hands to her lap and said, “Give me the weekend to decide.”

“Retz—”

She pushed herself up, leaning on one knee to kiss his forehead. She clutched her hands to his hair and pressed her nose to it. “Hug me, you idiot,” she said. 

When he hugged her, he held on for dear life. They stayed together for all the moments it took Gon to pull away. When he did, he rubbed a hand over his eyes and, upon Retz’ query, confessed that he felt better now. With that, she pushed up to her feet and heaved Gon up with her. Once standing, she tapped a finger to his chest and said, “The weekend. That’s it.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Jigglypuff you WHORE" — My Roommate playing Smash Bros
> 
> Also, I ruined Gon's canon CHARACTER FOR THIS. As if Gon would CALL IT QUITS. My boy?? would never. He Wouldn't Stop Until He Could Have His Two Favorite Humans. Did YOU see Gon ditch Retz when Killua called her a fake ass hoe?? NO. My boy: advocated for both sides even though Killua was a little pissy pants about it out here to snitch on her ass.
> 
> And Retz??? Here's the tea: My girl?? doesn't need to wear a dress to suddenly be a girl. If She Wants To Wear Overalls, Let Her, Bitch. My girl????? ain't no damsel in distress. She's a self-sacrificing, badass mf and Gon??? he's like, "Wow like minds and all that shit." Catch me throwing hands the instant Retz put on a dress and lets her hair out. SHE'S VALID WITH OR WITHOUT A Pretty Anime Girl Transformation OKAY? Don't go all Ouran High on me. Do NOT.


	9. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retz and Killua have The Talk.

**I** t was Thursday when Killua left the stadium, and it was Friday when he and Zushi walked the two miles back from campus and arrived to the sight of someone with blonde hair nearly as bright as his own sitting on the porch steps. They were kitty-corner on the intersection, and the instant they realized who it was, Zushi was clutching at Killua’s arm and saying, “Maybe if we walk around the block we can sneak in through the alleyway.”

Killua was tempted to agree with the plan, but then he thought about how painful it was to watch Retz smile after confessing that Gon was going to break up with her. 

“Nah, I’m not a pussy,” Killua said.

“Oh, and I am? Is that it?” Zushi said, chasing after Killua as he walked off of the curb and across the road. “You’re just  _asking_ for an emotional pummeling. A mental roundhouse kick, if you will.”

Killua struck a lame karate pose and said, “Good thing I’ve got a blackbelt in anxiety gymnastics.”

Zushi threw his head back and laughed. Killua shoved him in the arm and raced him to the front steps of the apartment. He had his keys out and they chimed as he jogged up to where Retz was rising from the steps, that cheerful smile on her face. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey back,” she said. She pointed to Zushi, who glowered at her. “We never properly introduced ourselves.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Zushi said. Killua attempted to kick him, but he dodged it and skirted around Retz to use her as a meat shield. Killua tossed him his keys since they were on hand and Zushi caught them. 

Killua followed him up and gestured for Retz to join them. 

She waved her hands quickly. “Oh, no, I couldn’t intrude. And I only came by to ask you something.”

“Me?” Killua repeated. “And you should come in. I’ve got an entire closet full of pudding.”

“Pudding? Why?” Retz said. 

Zushi pushed open the front door and squinted back at them. “An emotional roundhouse kick.”

“I’ll punt your ass to Saturn, Umi,” Killua threatened. 

“Oh, the—um, Knuckle thing,” Retz said.

“Right…” Killua sighed, rolling his eyes to the door. He held it open, but Retz didn’t seem inclined, so he stuck Hank the doorstopper in the front door. When he came back out, Retz hadn’t moved an inch. 

“I have my brother’s car for the weekend,” she said, pointing to the road. Sure enough, there sat an nondescript SUV that looked like something Secret Service would drive. An entire surfboard was strapped to the top. “I was hoping you and I could go on a road trip to the redwood forests up north.”

It was the last thing Killua thought he’d be confronted with on a Friday evening. “Why me,” he said, and he didn’t mean to look disgusted, but he did.

Retz scratched her hair and said, “I’d like to see the redwood forests, and I’d really like it if you could come. It might come as a surprise to you, but I don’t actually have that many friends here. I left most of them behind in Chicago and plane tickets aren’t exactly cheap…”

_Jesus Christ, way to guilt-trip me_ , he thought. Not only was he hesitant to open the can of worms that was Retz’ relationship status, but now he felt like shit for not wanting to go. He remembered what she said about ghosting him if she and Gon broke up, but something must have changed.

He needed to know.

“Fine, whatever,” he sighed. “I work on Sunday.”

“We’ll be back by Saturday,” she promised. 

“Where are we sleeping?”

“In the car,” she said.

“You’ve got this whole thing planned, don’t you Ritz?”

“I sure do! Now come on, daylight’s fading. Spare clothes, toothbrush, swimsuit—that’s all you need,” she said, clapping her hands in a  _chop-chop!_ manner.

While Retz waited in the car, Killua took to the apartment where he emptied out the majority of his backpack and replaced it with his overnight bullshit. He topped it all with a packet of pudding and two bottles of cider that Knuckle had stashed in their fridge. Zushi peered out of his room at the sound of bottles clinking and witnessed the sight of Killua stuffing his toothbrush into a plastic baggie. 

“Dude, what’s going on?” Zushi said.

“Impromptu road trip with Retz,” Killua said. 

Zushi stared at him, and Killua stared back because hearing it out loud made him wonder if he was losing his sanity bit by bit over the semester and now, he was just full-blown crazy.

“Dude,” Zushi started, a hand out like he was fully prepared to drag Killua back into the apartment if he took one step out. “I am  _not_ letting you go on a fucking  _road trip_ with her alone. I’m coming with you.”

“You  _could_ just tell me not to go.”

“Yeah, and the odds of you listening to me are slim, and I wanna know what this bitch is about,” he said. He marched to his room to grab his things as Killua rolled his eyes and reminded him that Retz said to bring a swimsuit.

Killua walked out of the apartment sporting a backpack and his pillow. He marched down the steps and Retz started up the car. He swung open the passenger door, dropped in, and said, “Zushi’s chaperoning.”

“O-Oh,” she said. She was sitting in the driver’s seat with her left ankle tucked under her knee. “That should be fine. I don’t have an extra sleeping bag, though.”

“That’s fine. He can rough it,” Killua said, waving his hand dismissively.

And then, Zushi was sprinting out of the house, backtracking, and sneaking through the front door to lock up their apartment. He lunged down the steps looking like a puppy on a dog park high. Once Zushi was in and the door was closed, Retz pulled away from the curb and headed north. 

Killua played DJ and, with the windows down, they felt the crisp, fall air on their faces and tugging at their hair. It was odd even  _being_ in a car after spending the past two years on foot or in buses, and seeing Retz as the driver was even more bizarre. She drove with her one leg tucked under the other, hands braced at the wheel—both relaxed and understandably alert. 

Once they were out of the city traffic and cruising on the Pacific highway, Retz put the windows up and confessed, “I stole this car from my brother.”

Killua laughed and Zushi cursed in the backseat, “We’re fucked.”

“Why’d you steal it?” Killua asked. 

“He’s an overprotective shithead,” she said with a half-shrug. “I left him my bus pass, though, so he should be okay.”

“What makes you think he’s overprotective?”

She gave him a brief, deadpanned expression before saying, “He asked to be relocated to San Fran the minute I enrolled for fall semester.”

“Jesus,” Killua said. “But that’s nice of him. Rent’s probably cheaper.”

“Yeah, but I would have liked to have roommates. I feel like that’s the easiest way to make long-lasting friends. I mean, look at you and Zushi! And Zushi was roommates with Gon, so—”

“How do you know that?” Zushi said, startled. Zushi hadn’t talked to Gon since  _Before_ .

“Oh, you were in all the Snaps he sent me last year. He gave me a digital tour of your dorm,” she explained, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. “When we were on break, we were still friends. We just didn’t talk as much. Texting stresses Gon out.”

Killua wasn’t surprised by this. He expected to hear something like that, just based on Gon’s ultimate inability to  _cut people off_ . His difficulties with deleting Tinder were proof of it.

“Gon always  _despised_ how I let Omo—my brother—baby me. It made sense for a while but… now I’m nineteen! I’m an adult, dammit!”

“Damn straight,” Killua said. 

Behind him, Zushi put a hand to his face and whispered, “Who even are you anymore?”

Retz giggled, glancing back at Zushi and grinning at Killua. “What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, Alluka. She’s a freshmen at Yorknew now.”

“Aw, that’s nice.”

“What about your other siblings,” Zushi said. 

“They’re dead to me,” Killua said, crossing his arms. Zushi laughed as Killua explained, “My family is full of psychopaths. Illumi’s dating a clown, Milluki collects sex dolls or something, and my parents own a law firm.”

“Christ,” Retz said, laughing out of shock, eyes wide. 

“So yeah, Alluka’s my only sibling as far as that’s concerned,” Killua said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She got into Yorknew Law but she’s planning on going back to school to study psychiatry.”

“Wow. She sounds brilliant.”

“She is.”

“Killua got into Yorknew Law,” Zushi said, and Retz’ eyes went even wider. She glanced at Killua as Zushi said, “Yeah, and then he gave ‘em the middle finger and went into premed.”

“No kidding,” she said, gasping. “Killua, that’s amazing! I never knew.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said in the same manner someone says that makes it a big deal.

They chatted about miscellaneous, life-related topics. Where Killua grew up. The sports Retz participated in in grade school. Zushi’s mothers down in San Diego. Retz had the conversational air of a midwestern, suburban mom—a gracious host with every intent of making her visitors calm and welcome. After a while, it didn’t feel like Killua was talking to Gon’s longterm girlfriend. They just didn’t talk about Gon.

Not at first, anyway.

But the conversation that was Gon Freecss hovered over them like a shadow. All of Retz’ childhood stories had the ghost of Gon in the background—he was always there, for whatever tale she had, and Killua could tell it took an entire conversation about Zushi’s high school days for her to wrap her head around a story she’d tell in which Gon was conveniently left out.

Eventually, Killua couldn’t take it. He agreed to come to learn about what happened yesterday, dammit, and they were already three hours into the trip. 

“So what happened yesterday,” Killua said. 

Retz fell quiet. The silence occupied the SUV like smoke, but all Killua could smell was the salty, Pacific air cold enough to spring goosebumps on his arms.

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” she said, voice light. “We’re almost to the spot! Oh, I’m so excited.”

Somehow, they had stumbled upon a forest that grew to magnificent heights. The transition was so fluid that Killua couldn’t quite process the shift until Retz was pulling over off onto the gravel shoulder to let the cars behind them pass. She drove at the speed of an elderly person, and on the California cost, Killua couldn’t blame her. The roads were winding, often with nonexistent shoulders on the edge of great, sloping cliffs. But now, deep in the forests in the fading sunlight, pockets of gravel shoulders carved out sightseeing spots for them to hop out of the car and stretch their legs. 

Killua had been on worse road trips, definitely. After standing for five hours at Starbucks, his legs could use the drive, but stepping out felt oh-so wonderful. He spun around the open passenger door and put his arms over his head. He walked out to the nearest tree trunk, fingers laced behind his head. He tipped back, his eyes going skyward up the rusty brown tree trunks. 

Retz bounded up beside him and hopped amongst the wild ferns. She spun on one foot, arms out, hugging the tree. It would have been better suited to hug an elephant’s leg. The tree trunk could have fit three Retz’ horizontally across. 

“I want to live in one of these trees,” Zushi said.

“No different than a San Francisco apartment,” Killua said, glancing back at his friend. “Would probably cost less though, I’ll give ya that.”

“No one is carving up  _any_ redwoods. Not on  _my_ watch,” Retz said, nestling her cheek to the bark. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Hugging trees makes me feel better. Here, come here. Put your ear to the bark.”

Killua followed Zushi’s lead. They climbed up the short mound of dirt, their ankles brushing up against the ferns. They waded through the foliage like water skirting around their knees, shimmering in the dappled, fading sunlight. Killua glanced at Retz, who had her eyes closed against the bark, before turning to look at Zushi. They were all two-arms lengths from each other—enough space for the three of them to circle the trunk, but not quite far enough for Zushi to reach Retz’ hand.

Killua put his ear to the bark, close enough to feel the fibers on his shirt catch on the ridges in the bark. With his ear pressed so close to the tree, his heartbeat resonated against it and blended with the sound of the canopy rustling high over their heads. It sounded like the ocean, far off in the distance, crashing up against northern California’s rocky coastline. 

He took a deep breath, and relaxed. 

“Am I supposed to feel enlightened right now?” Zushi whisper-shouted to Killua, who smiled.

“You’re supposed to feel however you want to feel,” Retz said. “All feelings are valid here.”

“I didn’t realize we went on this trip to find ourselves,” Killua said, leaning back from the tree to look from Zushi, who was half-asking the tree-hugging experience, to Retz. Retz opened her eyes to look at him.

“There’s nothing to find,” she said. “I wholeheartedly believe that who you are now is no different than who you will be in the future. The potential is always there. It’s just Future You that is different from Present You.”

“Okay, Miss Philosophical,” Zushi said, marching back down to the SUV. Killua shrugged helplessly when Retz raised an eyebrow at him. 

She smiled good-naturedly and said, “I have a spot to show you two. It’s just twenty minutes up ahead.”

“At this rate they’ll never hear our screams,” Zushi called back over his shoulder.

“Did you bring us here to murder us?” Killua asked.

Retz looked too horrified to be faking it. “Of course not!” Retz cried. Killua burst into laughter at the severity in her voice. “I’m serious!”

“We’re  _kidding_ , Jesus,” Killua laughed, a hand to his stomach. 

When they were back in the car and moving again, it was in the direction of the coastline. The highway dipped down from the steep cliffs and cut around the edge of the foothills. When they emerged from the redwood canopy, the sky became a dusty grey overhead. Clear skies spread along the horizon where the sun slipped like golden dewdrops to the ocean. 

Retz slowed the vehicle. Killua had been distracted by the water until the moment she took a turn to a narrow parking lot that stretched alongside a beach composed entirely of  _black sand_ . The inky, grayish hue collected like ash along the coastline where slate rocks jutted up from the water. Zushi leant over the center console, marveling over Killua’s shoulder at the beach line.

Retz parked the car and said, “We used to vacation a lot to California—hence the whole  _surfing_ gig. The water’s warmer in the fall this far north, but that’s mostly because the air’s so cool in comparison.”

“The Pacific is always cold,” Zushi countered, frowning. “Even in San Diego.”

“If you think I’m surfing tonight, you’ve got another thing comin’,” Killua said, but he was already pushing open the passenger door and swinging out. He jumped onto the asphalt, arms swinging like an expert gymnast sticking the landing. He threw them up over his head as Zushi stepped down, letting out a magnificent groan of relief.

Together, the three of them retrieved two surfboards from the top of the SUV. They were heftier than Killua initially thought, but figured it would have been  _Hell_ to carry it on his own just a year ago. Now, he sported it under one arm without too much worry while Retz carried the other. Zushi heaved the cooler from the back of the vehicle and seemed to struggle the most with his load onto the black sand beach.

Their footsteps sunk heavy and deep into the sand like fresh tar. Among the contents of the vehicle, Retz included what appeared to be a massive rug, rolled up and strapped alongside the boards. After setting her board aside, she went back to retrieve it. Their spot was saved on the otherwise empty beach, and there, she rolled it out and stood atop it, barefoot and proud. 

She put her hands on her hips and said, “We’re going swimming.”

Killua could have blanched. “I thought you were kidding,” he confessed. He hadn’t packed a suit.

Her expression flatlined. Completely serious. “I never kid about swimming.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” he said, arms out. 

She smiled. “That’s okay. That’s what underwear is for.”

Zushi cackled. Killua flushed bright red because he wasn’t exactly wearing underwear that people saw these days. There was an entire corner of his underwear drawer that he hadn’t touched since seeing Gon, but now, he was back to wearing them. And that included his favorite pair of purple Waluigi boxers.

“I-I’m not swimming!” Killua stammered, ears bright pink.

“Oh, shit, what boxers are you wearing? Are you wearing briefs?” Zushi asked, giggling, covering his mouth as Killua sent him the deadliest glare he could muster. It didn’t take much effort.

“I’ve phased my bullshit underwear back into my wardrobe, okay? I’m not subjecting you guys to that,” Killua huffed, arms crossed defensively over his chest. 

Zushi jolted towards him. Killua jumped away, fully braced to run a mile to escape. And then, Zushi was chasing him, trying to snag his shorts. Killua ran, screaming, “NONONONONONO!” as Zushi laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe and therefore came to an abrupt stop to clutch at a cramp in his side. With his defenses down, Killua started to walk back to the rug only to be nabbed from behind by Zushi shoving his basketball shorts down. He saw Retz slap her hands over her mouth to keep from either A) laughing or B) gasping in horror at the sight of Killua’s Waluigi boxers. 

Killua threw his arms up, defeated, and turned to shove Zushi face-first into the black sand. Zushi screamed uncle almost immediately, still giggling. Killua tripped—his shorts  _were_ around his ankles, after all—and fell over him with a curse.

Killua didn’t even bother putting his shorts on. His dignity was already down the drain, nothing mattered anymore. Retz was clearly trying not to laugh as he returned to the rug. She put her hand over her mouth and cheek, turned away, eyes closed. Killua put his hands on his hips.

“The infamous boxers! Every time I see you I wonder to myself, ‘ _Hm, I wonder if he’s wearing those today_ ,’” Zushi said. 

“Y-You knew about these?” Retz said, giddy.

“Oh, yeah, when Killua first met Gon, he was actually telling me about his Waluigi boxers,” Zushi said, dropping down onto the rug. Killua followed shortly after him, sobered by the mention of Gon. Zushi went on, explaining, “I mean, there was context and all that, but basically we were talking about Smash Bros, and Killua was talking about how gay the name Smash Bros is, and that’s when Gon chimed in. You think he heard about your Waluigi boxers?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Killua said, shaking his head. He tried to count the number of times Gon begged him to wear them, but he couldn’t on his hands. 

“Hey, Killua,” Retz started as she lowered herself down. She leant back on her hands and tipped her head to the side. “Are you bisexual, by any chance?”

Zushi’s giggling fell quiet. Killua stared at Retz, who stared back, relaxed and curious. Killua pursed his lips, shrugged, and said, “I’m kinda gay.”

“That’s an understatement,” Zushi said with a snort. 

Retz frowned. She put a finger to her lips and turned away with a terse, “Hm,” that had Killua narrowing his eyes. In his experience, people only asked if they were interested, and it seemed odd that Retz would hit on him immediately after jumping out of a longterm relationship of over five years.

“Why do you ask?” Killua asked, and his query brought a flush to her cheeks that became immediately obvious in the red blotches peppering around her freckles. 

She leant forward, hands clasped to her crossed ankles. With a shrug, she said, “I just… I think it’d be easier on Gon if we got along better.”

_Holy fuck, that’s a lot to unpack_ . In the few seconds he spent staring at her, he narrowed it all down by A) She knew Killua was significant to Gon, which meant B) She knew he and Gon dated, which meant C) She was asking for more than what Gon was willing to suggest, which meant D) She was not only okay with Gon’s sexuality, but she was okay with Killua’s past relationship with Gon.

“You… know…” Zushi started, slowly. 

“Yeah, Gon told me,” she whispered, but her eyes remained honed in on Killua. 

He ducked his head and scratched his hair. “I’m sorry—” he started, but he didn’t know why he was apologizing. He just knew that he needed to.

“You didn’t do anything wrong — ”

“But I—”  _Suggested to Gon that he should get you to break up with him. That I almost kissed him—twice, no less. That I flirted with him the day he decided to call it quits on both of us_ .

Retz scooted forward, intent. Meanwhile, Zushi put his hands to his hair and whispered, “Oh, God, you really did bring us out here to murder us.”

“What? No,” she said, looking sharply to Zushi. “I brought Killua out here to try and and come to an agreement. I don’t want us to be feuding over custody of Gon when we could all be one happy family.”

“Yeah, right,” Killua scoffed, laughing darkly. “Did he put you up to this.”

“No, he gave me the weekend to decide whether or not I break us up,” she said, and before Killua could process all  _that_ , she added, “I don’t want to break up with him just because he thinks I’ll be uncomfortable with him dating other people.”

Killua recoiled a little and said, “So you’re okay with him dating…  _me?_ ”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t be comfortable if you weren’t receptive to the idea of Gon also dating me,” she said. She shook her head and said, “I’m not a jealous person, and Gon’s given me no reason to distrust him.”

“So you’re saying  _I’m_ jealous?” Killua started, voice pitched. He didn’t want to be defensive, but there Retz was, brow furrowing like Killua was trying to pick a fight. Maybe he was—maybe he was just being irrational again. He threw his arms up over his face and groaned, knees pulled up. It was too much to process. When he put his hands down again, he stressed, “Of fucking  _course_ I wouldn’t be comfortable— _sharing him_ .”

“Why not?” she said, like it was the simplest question to answer.

He stared at her, eyes wide. “ _Why not?_ Fucking Christ, Retz—”

“Gon and I have never had sex,” she said. 

“Whoa,” Zushi said, hands up. “Back the fuck up. What does  _that_ have anything to do with this?”

“Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have sex comfortably,” she said. Killua didn’t want to hear any of this. She didn’t stop. “And I’m just not interested in it. But I know Gon  _must_ have  _some_ desire for it, but I… guess I’d get self-conscious if Gon was with another woman. I just—that doesn’t sit right for me. If anything, I’d probably put my foot down there, but I just never expected Gon to come out as bi.”

“Really?” Killua said, dryly. 

“He’s kind of fruity, you have to admit,” Zushi said.

Retz blushed all over again. “I’m just saying—if your reservations are about Gon and I having sex—”

Killua visibly shuddered and waved his hands, “Nope, not going there.”

“You two have had sex, right?” she asked.

_Yeah, like, at_ least _twice a week_ , he thought,  _in between blowjobs and shit_ .

He coughed uncomfortably and said, “Do you really want to know that?”

“I guess I’m just interested. Gon loves you— _so_ much, Killua. Please don’t penalize him for being polyamorous.”

Killua shivered at the term and said, eyes narrowed, “I don’t believe in polyamory.”

“Just because you don’t understand it or can’t be in their shoes doesn’t mean polyamorous individuals don’t exist,” she said. “I don’t consider myself polyamorous, but I do care a lot about the people close to me. I’m not asking for a threesome, Killua.”

“I don’t appreciate you implying that I’m ignorant about polyamory,” he said, sharply. Next to him, Zushi put a hand to his lips and watched with wide, stunned eyes. 

Retz set her jaw tight. “I’m implying that you aren’t being considerate of Gon’s feelings.”

“You think I don’t know it’s fucked that Gon even fell in love with me in the first place? If you could even call it that?” Killua hissed. He wanted to stand up and scream it, but knew that yelling would get him nowhere. Not with a pacifist like Retz. “After what you’re telling me, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d just be Gon’s booty call in this situation because you won’t let him stick it.”

“Holy shit,” Zushi whispered, horrified.

Retz got to her feet. Killua stared up at her. He wouldn’t take it back. “You aren’t just a piece of ass to Gon. You don’t hear the way he talked about you  _before_ he even admitted to being in a relationship with you. He thinks you’re the funniest son of a bitch on this planet,” she said, each word cutting against her thin, distressed scowl. “And I can’t have sex because in case you weren’t aware, I barely have a cervix. As if Gon would put me through that kind of agony.”

With that said, she hunkered back down, fuming, and grabbed for the cooler. She yanked out one of the ciders Killua nabbed from the fridge and cracked it open on the edge of the cooler. 

Killua barely knew what a cervix was. 

“I’m… kind of interested to know what happened to your vagina,” Zushi confessed and followed up with an awkward cough when Retz glared at him. 

She took a long swig of her drink before saying, “Cancerous tumors. As a kid I spent most of my time in the oncology unit. They expected the nerves to repair themselves but when it isn’t numb down there it just stings like hell.”

“Going to the bathroom must be a bitch,” Killua whispered. 

Retz laughed and said, “Nah, you’re thinking of something else. You don’t have to worry about me. And I never relapsed, but my brother’s been worried about me ever since. It’s a miracle, really.”

“God, I hate that phrase,” Killua confessed, shaking his head. 

“What phrase?”

“‘ _It’s a miracle_ ’,” he teased in a chirpy voice. 

Retz laughed and said, “I can see why Gon likes you. He’s fascinated by cynical people for some reason.”

“Killua’s as cynical as they get,” Zushi said. 

“Thank you, Zushi, for being my #1 fan,” Killua said with thick sarcasm. “Your boundless supply of compliments keeps my ego afloat, truly.”

“Was Gon around when you were… you know…? Indisposed?” Zushi asked. 

Retz smiled a little, ducking her head. “Yeah. He, um, volunteered at the children’s center when I was there. Him and his aunt would go room-to-room entertaining the kids and stuff. We’d make friendship bracelets together.”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Zushi said, tipping dreamily to his side. 

“I still have those friendship bracelets. Well, I lost mine, so Gon gave me his. We wound up going to the same elementary school together, which is  _super_ odd considering how massive the Chicago suburbs are. We moved to Chicago for my treatment and just stuck around.”

Zushi asked miscellaneous questions about Retz’ treatment, but they were mostly beyond her level of understanding as a kid. Her parents kept her in the dark and her brother and Gon kept her too cheerful to care. When Zushi tried to drag Killua into the conversation, wondering about what treatment Retz’ was likely on, Killua wasn’t receptive. He was stuck on the fact that Retz and Gon never had sex. 

“You never knew he was bi?” Killua said instead. 

Retz switched conversations instantly. She shrugged and said, “It makes sense, but I guess I never looked past our relationship. I wish I would have—I might have realized he was poly sooner. It’s like… dating someone who’s bi, but only identifying your relationship as what it looks like externally. Gay. Straight. To me, Gon was just… straight and monogamous because he was in a relationship with me.”

“So what are you two now.”

Retz smiled sweetly, guiltily, and said, “An overly lovable, bi disaster couple? What were you two?”

“Sexy frat boys,” Zushi said. Killua hit him in the arm without looking. 

Retz started giggling, and she laughed so hard she snorted. When Killua demanded to know what was so funny, she pointed down and said, “He says that when you’re wearing Waluigi boxers.”

Killua put his shorts over his exposed thighs with a frown. Heat consolidated in his flaming ears. “Sh-Shut up! God, you  _both_ are embarrassing.”

“No one else is here! Why are you embarrassed?” Zushi shouted, and it just made Retz laugh harder, covering up her snorts with her hand.

Killua put a hand over his face and groaned. Frustrated, he said, “I don’t want to talk about my sex life—I only make jokes about it.”

“Whatever the case,” she said, “what you have—or had—with Gon is just as important to him as his relationship with me.” Killua looked away, narrowing his eyes at the tides rolling in. With his hands clasped around his knees, he looked to his lap. “I’ll let you think about it tonight, and then… if all goes well? We can talk boundaries tomorrow?”

The silence was painful again, so Zushi broke it. “Doesn’t it bother you that Gon fell in love with someone else?”

“It’d bother me if he wasn’t poly—or… if it had been with another girl, but that’s my own insecurities talking—if he wasn’t poly, then it would have made more sense for him to break up with me to be with Killua. People who aren’t poly… it’s like we’re putting all our eggs in one basket and that basket is on a pair of balancing scales. We’re designated a certain amount of eggs, and when we fall  _in_ love, simultaneously we fall  _out_ of love by taking eggs from one person’s designated basket and putting it in the new one,” she explained. “Gon’s scales aren’t balanced, so they aren’t tied to one another.”

“Like those scales at the grocery store that no one ever uses,” Zushi said. Killua snorted.

Retz snapped her fingers and cried, “Yes! Those exact ones! And Gon just has a specific weight of eggs—if we’re going with that metaphor—for love. He doesn’t have a limited supply of eggs like we do.”

“This is weird,” Killua grimaced. “I don’t even  _like_ eggs.”

Retz put her hands on her hips. “Now you’re just being a stubborn ass.”

Killua leant back on his hands and said, “Nothing new there. I find it funny that you thought we’d get along better if I was bi.”

Retz’ ears flushed pink again. “I-I don’t know! I would have suggested something else if that were the case!”

Zushi threw his head back and laughed as Killua put two-and-two together. He covered his face and groaned. Retz slapped her hands at Zushi, who couldn’t stop laughing even as she tackled him to the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We ALL know Gon would be an amazing volunteer at a children's clinic. IT'S THE TRUTH.


	10. Indecisive Little Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua must make his decision. Retz' life becomes a whole lot more complicated.

**S** leeping in an SUV wasn’t the  _greatest_ time of Killua’s life, but the moonroof certainly made it special. This far north, they could see the Milky Way splashed across the sky like a dense patch of glitter, and with the stars so clear in the sky, the three of them sat and waited for satellites to pass them by. Retz kept a tally on a post it note. 

At around the seventh satellite, Zushi yawned from the backseat and said, “I’m gonna call it a night, dudes.”

Retz twisted around, her cheek pressed to her pillow. “Goodnight, Zushi. I brought pancake mix for the morning.”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Zushi moaned, turning his face away from them. Killua snickered and went back to studying the stars.

After some time spent wide awake in an existential reflection, Killua decided that he really didn’t care that much about stargazing. He wondered what it’d be like if Gon was there with him instead of Retz, and it was just the two of them bumming it in an SUV.  _We’d probably be fucking by now_ , he thought with a devious grin. He huffed a little, trying not to laugh, arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you thinking about,” Retz whispered. 

Killua turned and realized that she was watching him.

“The truth or something thoughtful and inspiring,” he whispered back.

“The truth.”

“If Gon and I went stargazing, we’d probably be screwing by now,” he said. 

Retz put a hand to her face and giggled. “Oh my God,” she groaned. Behind them, Zushi was snickering. “It’s so odd to me because Gon told me you were the first guy he ever dated.”

“Fuck off, that’s a lie,” Killua laughed. 

“I’m serious! He said he had his Tinder set to women.”

Killua straightened immediately. Retz startled as he twisted around to look at Zushi, who was already staring at him. Zushi slapped a hand over his mouth and said, “Holy shit.”

Killua had spent all of September and October the previous year pining after Gon Freecss like some sorority fangirl. It was to be expected that he kept track of all the girls Gon brought into Starbucks, and when it came time for him to buy a drink for a guy, Killua had jumped to the conclusion that Gon was bi, and that was that. 

But Gon wasn’t even  _dating_ Shalnark, his saving grace in Spanish class. He was just doing the guy a favor for pulling his weight through the semester.

“He and Shal fucked around, didn’t they?” Killua said. 

Zushi sat up and said, “I just assumed they did! I mean, one time I walked in on them making out.”

“Oh, God, I don’t want to hear that,” Killua moaned, a hand over his face. 

Retz sat up and said, “Wait, you didn’t know that?”

“No!” Killua cried, voice cracking. “He just—he  _seemed_ experienced.”

“If anything, Gon seems like the type to practice on a banana or something,” Zushi said. Retz let out a startled, shrill laugh. “Well, who knows! Maybe he ordered a dildo or something—”

“I thought you were going to  _sleep_ , Zushi!” Killua snarled, grabbing his pillow to whip it at his friend. Zushi cowered and tugged his sleeping bag over his head. Killua slapped his pillow back down and harrumphed back onto it. “Jesus fuck… That entire time I thought  _I_ was the one with no experience. We even had the virginity talk!”

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“Like, ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter that I haven’t done shit because virginity is a shitty patriarchal social construct,’” he said in a derpy voice that had Retz giggling. 

“Oh, interesting. I like the way you think,” she said. “Is Gon a top or a bottom?”

“Oh, bottom, definitely.”

“Fascinating.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

Killua looked at her, and she looked at him, and they both started laughing. Meanwhile, Zushi flipped back around and said, “This is the most interesting Ted Talk I’ve ever attended.”

“Fuck off!” Killua shouted, louder than intended. 

Shortly after Killua beat the shit Zushi with a pillow, they settled in for the night. Killua couldn’t sleep though, not with everything on his mind, so he laid awake until his eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.

He wanted Gon to himself. Talking about him, after a month of avoiding the topic, made him want Gon even more. He missed snuggling, perhaps, most of all. He and Gon rarely spent their nights apart. Before Gon, Killua always thought he’d be  _annoyed_ by bed sharing, or even just the limited privacy it gave him. There were so many studies as well that suggested bed sharing would decrease restfulness, but with Gon, he woke up feeling less fatigued, less irritable. It was like that sex afterglow but without the sex and Killua  _loved it_ .

And he supposed there were times when Gon wore him out. Studying, mostly, because Gon had the attention span of a goddamn chipmunk. Studying often led to…  _other_ activities, and Killua needed to focus when it came time for finals. The closest he and Gon got to a fight after Winter Break last year was Spring semester finals, when Gon wouldn’t leave Killua alone because he was procrastinating on his own assignments and hoping that Killua would distract him. 

_God, I feel so stupid thinking about how pissed I was back then_ , he thought, a hand to his cheek.  _It would have been beyond perfect to have Retz there to distract Gon then_ .

Before long, morning came, and Killua didn’t realize he fell asleep. 

The sun was behind the mountains, and with the beach cast in shadows, the frigid, damp air prompted them to start a morning fire on the beach using Retz’ camping gear. The previous night they had cooked hotdogs on spits, and this morning, she propped a grill tray over the flames and pushed a long-handled skillet over the bars. She and Zushi were already setting up breakfast when Killua emerged from the SUV, stiff, exhausted, but more or less alive. 

His hair was the embodiment of chaos that morning, and he did little to nullify it aside from tugging his sweatshirt hood over his head. He shuffled over to the fire as Retz waved and said, “Morning! I’ll be making coffee.”

“Shit yeah, I’m in,” Killua said.

With one hand gloved, she propped an Italian espresso maker on the grill, over the flames. As she did, Zushi said, “The suspense is killing me. What’s the consensus?”

“It’s too early to discuss it,” Killua said, sitting down on the wooden log with a groan. He felt like he was sixty years old and retiring. “But… I’ve made my decision.”

“And?” Retz prompted, eyes wide.

Killua sighed. “I want to try. Dating Gon again—with you. Or whatever.”

Retz looked like she was about to drop her tongs. “Wait, really?”

“You want me to take it back?”

“No! No, not at all. I just thought—well, you didn’t seem very receptive to the idea.”

“I like to keep peoples’ expectations of me low,” Killua said. 

Retz laughed, her smile wider than before. She crouched next to the fire, catching Killua’s eyes as she said in a light, quiet voice, “Okay. I’m glad that’s settled then.”

“So now what?” Zushi said, drawing their attention to him. “So you three are just gonna be one big happy family?”

Killua scratched the back of his head. There was a sensation in his chest that he wasn’t quite familiar with, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It wasn’t crushing, nor was it weightless. Its presence felt a lot like…  _relief_ , but without the giddy aftertaste.

“Now we… talk about boundaries?” Retz suggested. 

“Okay,” he agreed.

They decided on how much or how little they wanted to see each other. Retz didn’t seem opposed to the idea of “double-dating”, but the thought still made Killua’s skin crawl. He decided that he didn’t mind having Retz pick up Gon from his place, if that ever would be the case, but it became generally understood that evenings were for Gon and Killua. Mornings were Retz’ time to be alive, anyway, and when Gon’s practice would end at nine, Killua would already be in classes anyway. 

Weekends were complicated, since it all depended on the team’s schedule and Sigma’s parties. Retz had experienced her fair share of parties—what with Gon’s purposefully dramatic party phase—and wasn’t inclined to join that scene again.

“Copious drinking makes me nervous because my liver isn’t all that great,” she confessed. On the weekends, she tended to spend more time with her brother anyway, so unless Gon had a date planned for her on those two days, she wouldn’t really be around. This trip up north, too, would limit her weekends instrumentally. Omokage wouldn’t trust her to drive his car ever again, she was sure of it.

When the fog lifted from the water and the sun peeked out from the mountains, the beach became doused in a warm glow that lifted from the hot, black sand. By that time, since it was now Saturday afternoon, a few other vehicles stopped at the parking lot and families gathered on the beach. Retz had the surfboards out and, after putting on her wetsuit, she had the kids marveling around her board before it even touched the water. 

She took a few kids out into the waves while Zushi and Killua watched from the rug. She waded behind the board as a wave came in and she pushed it forward. The kids all screamed with laughter as they coasted in, clutching desperately to the board until it docked in the sand. Retz threw her arms up in victory as another wave bucked her up several feet into the air, high enough for them all to see her bright, infectious smile.

While she entertained the kids—teaching them from the sand how to hold the board, to stand—Zushi turned to Killua and said, “I’m surprised you’re going along with this. I thought you’d be pissed.”

“Oh, I am pissed,” he said. “I’m gonna give Gon shit for eternity over this. I’ll twist his nipples no less than three times next week.”

Zushi laughed and said, “Make it four—one for me, three for you.”

“Deal.”

When Retz returned, the surfboard hefted under one arm, she asked if they were ready to go. They packed up the camping gear, the rug, and stomped out the fire with sand. Tourists were starting to trickle in, so they hurried to escape the rush and went on their way back south to San Francisco. 

* * *

Campus was quiet that Saturday all except for frat row, where Hunter green overalls and sweatshirts were worn up and down the sidewalk. The team would be coming back from Denver any moment now, and so they slowed near Sigma Alpha in search of familiar faces. It was an unseasonably warm day, and with the sunlight, any and all frat boys were out to soak it in.

At Sigma, they sat there at the curb and stared in. The front door was propped open, and some of the guys were out on the porch chatting around the lawn table. Killua recognized the guys from the team.

“They must be back,” he said. 

“Let’s go,” Retz said, about to shove open her door. 

Killua thrust out a hand to hold her back. “Hang on, we don’t have a game plan.”

Retz blinked, confused. “We don’t need a game plan. We just go in there, find Gon, tell him what’s up.”

“Yeah, but  _what_ do we tell him?” he insisted. “I don’t want him to think he… I dunno,  _won_ . Like, ya throw a tantrum and suddenly everything goes your way?”

“It’s not like that. He’s an adult,” she said.

“Yeah, who acts like a goddamn child,” Killua said.

The back door opened and both Killua and Retz twisted around to find Zushi already gone. Zushi walked over to the open passenger window, threw his arms up, and said, “Quit dilly dallying and go get your man!”

Killua flipped him off and Retz burst into laughter. She stifled a snort only to gasp in horror at something over Zushi’s shoulder. Killua startled, looked, and stilled at the sight of someone peeling down the frat steps—with Gon right behind them.

Killua hopped out of the vehicle the instant Retz was out and shouting, “Omo! What’re you doing h—” she started, walking around the hood of the car.

_Omo_ , Killua thought, staring wide-eyed at the blonde-haired devil looking pissed as all Hell.  _This must be Retz’ brother_ , he realized. He was a complete beanpole, but from the way he grabbed Retz’ arm, he had enough strength to drag her onto the curb and manhandle her to the passenger door. 

Killua staggered back, barely processing a word Omokage was saying. “You steal my car and expect me to just roll over? Retz, I was worried  _sick—_ ”

Gon pushed past them, reaching for Omokage’s arm as he straight up chucked Killua’s backpack and pillow from the passenger’s seat. Realizing what was happening, Zushi ran to snatch his things from the backseat, only to intercept Omo shoving Gon back, seething, “Back up, Freecss.”

“Omo!” Retz cried as Gon staggered into Zushi, who cursed under his breath.

“Stop manhandling her!” Gon said, distress pulling his eyes wide as Omo glared him down. Gon stepped back against Zushi, an arm out and something  _different_ but familiar in his expression.  _Fear_ ,  _perhaps?_ Killua thought. 

Killua’s heart thudded against the cage of his chest. He couldn’t speak or move without worrying about the state of Retz standing in the open passenger door, blocked by her brother. Her brother’s hair had fallen from his bun, heavy and blonde against his shoulders.

Omo jabbed a finger in Gon’s direction and said, “I swear to God this is the last time I’m warning you, Freecss. You’re always pushing her too far—”

“She did this on her own! Why can’t you trust her?” Gon said.

“ _On her own?!_ She wouldn’t have done this if you weren’t such a terrible influence!”

“Omo!” Retz shouted.

“Hey, what’s going on over here?”

Killua startled at the sound of Uvogin’s voice directly behind him, hurrying down the walkway from the frat. At this point, the entire porch squad was staring at them, and in the lawn next door, the frat boys had ceased beer pong to watch the show. Killua stepped aside, grabbing his things from the sidewalk where Omo had thrown them. 

As he shouldered his backpack, Gon only then seemed to register that  _Killua_ was involved, and not only that, but the pillow made it obvious that he had spent the night with Retz. Killua stared at him as Uvo stepped up beside him, burly arms crossed and expression heavily set on Omokage.

Omokage narrowed his eyes and said, “We were just leaving. Retz, get in the car.”

Retz didn’t object. She ducked in and, once settled, Omokage slammed the door shut. He shoved his shoulder against Gon’s as he passed, rounding the hood to claim the driver’s side. Gon stared him down until he was around the hood, at which point Gon went to the passenger window where Retz leant over and waved her hands dismissively, saying something along the lines of, “It’s fine, Gon—”

“No it’s not—” he started, pained, as Omokage put the window up and cut their conversation short. 

Gon barely stepped away from the curb as the SUV peeled away. Zushi slumped beside him, his bag in his hands, eyes trailing after the vehicle. Gon put his hands over his face and groaned. He bent over, swung up, and slapped his hands down as he turned to face Uvo and Killua, who were still posted at the sidewalk, completely blindsided by Omokage’s intrusion.

Gon’s light, doe eyes settled on Killua, who couldn’t find his voice for the life of him. It was gone, vamanos, halfway to Canada. 

“Why were you—?”

“They were discussing custody over you,” Zushi said.

Killua threw his arm up at Zushi, who flinched as if the words had flown out of his mouth without his say-so. “Sorry! I had to,” Zushi cried.

Killua put a hand to his face and sighed. He rubbed his fingers over his eye before settling them on his cheek. When he opened them, he found Gon staring at him tenfold. He could feel his cheeks warming underneath his chilled fingertips. 

He dropped his hand. “We’re gonna make it work,” he said. 

“Really?” Gon whispered, like if he said it any louder, he’d scare Killua away.

Killua grimaced. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he said, his entire face  _hot_ because Gon was already making a big deal out of it by  _tearing up_ . When Gon reached for him, he put his pillow up as a shield, scowled, and said, “I’m still mad at you.”

Gon clasped his hands behind his back and said, “Right, sorry. I’m just—How did you—?”

“Retz kidnapped us,” Zushi said. Before Killua could even think to smack him upside the head, he corrected himself. “Well, she kidnapped  _Killua_ and I just tagged along. We went up to one of the black sand beaches.”

“What’s up with her brother?” Uvo asked the same question that was on Killua’s mind, but he couldn’t speak—not when Gon was staring at him like that.

“He thinks Retz is perpetually six years old,” Gon said without breaking eye contact. “You want to date me? Both of you do?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Uvo muttered, looking at Zushi. “It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

Killua flushed red and stammered, “Yeah, you asshole.”

Gon looked like he was on the brink of bursting into tears. Killua wanted so terribly to hug the idiot, but his fear of being trampled on all over again had him restraining himself. He didn’t want to reward Gon for his behavior, for playing with his feelings, for not telling him about Retz.  _For not telling Retz about him_ .

But when Gon walked towards him, he didn’t want to move out of the way. He lowered the pillow, just a fraction, and watched as Gon covered his face and tipped his head onto Killua’s shoulder. The weight of Gon’s affections sent him staggering, but Gon held on fast, clutching securely to Killua’s pillow and holding him there for the few seconds it took for Gon to gather himself back together again. 

“I missed you,” Gon whispered.

Killua softened. The relief from earlier, weightless in his chest, cracked. Its pieces permeated through him like the dark scent of sandalwood cologne on Gon’s shirt that brought him back to what they had before Retz, and what they would have after.

“Missed you too, you idiot,” he said, “but you aren’t in the clear yet. We need to have a talk with Retz. We came up with a plan, but you need to—”

“I’m okay with anything. Whatever you guys need, I’ll be okay with,” Gon said, pulling away. He held Killua by the shoulders, and his grip was firm, worried. He glanced over his shoulder, back to the curb where the SUV used to be. The spot was taken by Uvo, who kicked a pebble against the curb, hands on his hips. 

“I’m happy for you guys and all that, but… that was our ride back to the apartment,” Zushi said, nodding in the direction Omokage and Retz took off in. “Also, no offense to Retz or anything, but her brother sounds like a real asshole.”

Gon’s wide-eyed wonderment vanished in an instant. He scowled, rolling his eyes as he said, “Yeah, I know.  _That_ is what I had to deal with all my life.” He started grabbing for Killua’s hand, but Killua swatted him away once, twice, three times before giving in with a sigh. Gon grasped onto Killua’s fingers and wrist with both of his hands, and he would have found it annoying if he didn’t miss Gon’s touch so much. His warm, firm grasp tingled across Killua’s skin and sent heat to his cheeks. 

As Gon fought for possession of Killua’s hand, he explained how Omokage now lived in San Francisco with Retz. The entire time Uvo and Zushi were watching the battle, both amused and concerned. Uvo crossed his arms, eyes narrowed suspiciously, as Killua gave in with a sigh, flopping his hand to his side where Gon gripped his arm close to his chest. 

“I’m worried Omo might take her phone, though—” Gon was saying.

“Gon,” Uvo said.

“Yeah?” Gon said, holding Killua’s arm so close it was practically in his jacket. 

“You’re making Killua uncomfortable.”

Gon’s grip slackened. “Oh, sorry,” Gon said, unlooping his arms from around Killua’s bicep. Killua straightened out his arm and pulled it in again, hugging his pillow to his chest. 

“It’s fine. I think we might call an Uber—”

“I’ll come with you!” Gon cried instantly.

“—and you should stay here and text Retz, make sure she’s all right. You two still need to talk,” Killua finished, taking a step back. His skin was still tingling, and his entire arm felt bare without Gon’s weight supporting it. He squeezed the pillow tighter. 

Gon withered. Killua glanced at Zushi for support, at which point Zushi produced his phone and declared the Uber already ordered. Before Gon could have a fit again, Killua said, “Once you’ve sorted things with Retz, you can come over.”

“So if I text her right now I can come with you guys?” Gon said, expression lightening up instantly into a wide, cheery smile.

“That isn’t what I said. Are you even listening to me?” Killua asked, exasperated. 

Uvo stepped over and clapped his arm around Gon’s shoulders. “I’ll hold him back. But be warned—the guy runs a four minute mile.”

Gon patted his pockets and cursed, looking back at the house. “Shit, my phone’s in my room. Killua—don’t—”

“Fucking run, bitch, or I’ll be gone by the time you get back,” Killua said. 

Gon bolted from under Uvo’s arm. He soared over the steps of the house three at a time and sent the screen door slamming into the wall. Killua grinned as Uvo laughed, slapping his hands to his knees. 

Zushi announced that the Uber was a block away, so they got ready for a quick getaway. Killua could feel his adrenaline pumping at the thought of making an escape with Gon at their heels. When they spied the car coming around the corner, the front door of the frat house banged open and Gon came skidding across the porch, catching himself with a hand to the floorboards. 

“Oh, shit!” Zushi shrieked as Gon vaulted off of the steps and sprinted, full force, directly at Killua. 

“Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go!” Gon screamed as the Uber pulled up to the curb. Uvo braced himself behind Killua so when Gon slammed into him, they didn’t topple into the street. The air was knocked completely out of Killua’s chest from the hit. The pillow did absolutely nothing to cushion the Hunter’s famed running back.

“You’ll see me later if you hold up your end of the bargain,” Killua said, breathless, still hugging the pillow to his chest even as Gon squeezed the life out of him. Uvo steadied them with his hands on Killua’s shoulders. 

Meanwhile, Zushi leant into the car through the backseat and apologized on behalf of his idiot friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a second AO3 account?? So I could post this [camboy Gon AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130361/chapters/47689972)??


	11. One-On-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Retz was "abducted" by her brother in front of the Sigma house, Gon and Killua have a chat—or two, maybe three.

16:38  **GON:** Paging Dr Retz paging Dr Retz

16:38  **GON:** What’s the emergency

16:40  **RETZ:** Patient flatlining 

16:40  **RETZ:** CLEAR

16:50  **RETZ:** Stabilized. Prescribed bedrest for the rest of the semester. Car privileges revoked.

16:50  **GON:** Understood

16:50  **GON:** Do you need a stay at home nurse

16:51  **RETZ:** lol no I’m studying for my midterm

16:51  **RETZ:** You’ll just be a distraction :D

16:51  **GON:** Tru  💁🏽♂️😛

When Killua opened the front door for Gon for the first time that semester, Gon was out of breath, red in the face, and holding his phone. Gon bent over his knees, panting, and gasped, “Retz… is fine… house arrest for the weekends until the end of the semester.”

“The fuck? She’s an adult,” Killua said. 

There was a moment’s pause in which the two of them stared at one another from across the threshold. Killua swallowed hard. He was really doing this. He was really letting Gon back in after more than a month of pure heartache. After they had both shut down an eight month commitment.

Killua glanced behind him, where the apartment door was lightly shut. He could see a sliver of the living room through the crack in the door where Zushi was likely listening. He ducked his head as he turned back to the front door and stepped through. He propped it open with a wooden wedge as Gon stepped back and followed his lead out onto the front stoop.

It was chilly out, so Killua covered his palms with the ends of his sweatshirt before ducking down onto the top step. Gon watched, still on his feet, eyes just as owlish as ever. Killua felt hot under his attention. It’d been a month since Gon looked at him like that—since Gon  _really_ looked at him—and Killua could feel his vulnerability like a blanket against his trembling skin. 

He crossed his arms over his stomach and said, “Do you… mind if we talk about boundaries?”

Gon crouched down, a step below Killua, so Killua didn’t have to raise his eyes far to meet Gon’s attentive gaze. “Sure. What is it?”

Killua bit his lip and looked away. After a deep breath, he confessed, “I don’t think I can take it fast anymore.”

Their relationship before had been…  _a whirlwind_ , to put it lightly. Killua had his own dorm room then, and really, the only thing slowing them down had been Gon’s dedication to football. If there was a light practice, a break, a  _weekend_ without any prior commitments, they were screwing around up and down campus. And though Retz had reassured him that Gon’s affections weren’t as surface-level as Killua initially thought—however in a haze of anger—he couldn’t ignore the acidic anxiety in his chest that came with any visual of the two of them like that again. He didn’t want his relationship with Gon to be sexual without strings attached. He wanted to be tied up in Gon’s threads of affection the way Retz was.

He was jealous of the gentle, nauseatingly sweet way Gon treated her. 

“Okay, we’ll go slow,” Gon said with a firm nod. 

Killua nodded. He looked down at his knees and let out the breath he had been holding. Gon’s hand clasped onto his leg, and soon, Gon was hugging his knee with his cheek pressed to it, searching Killua’s eyes as he said, “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“I just…” he started, sighing. “I kind of want Retz to chaperone. I’m afraid of superseding your relationship with her, I guess.”

“Killua…”

He closed his eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll break up with me if we don’t have sex.” It flew out of his mouth faster than he could stop it. 

It was so out of the blue that Gon floundered uselessly for a second before stammering, “That’s not—! How can you say that?”

“Because it feels like you’re  _using me_ —”

“Do you—” Gon started, but his voice cracked. Killua opened his eyes when he felt Gon’s hands slip from his knees. Gon’s tense shoulders were hunched up, his eyes locked on the concrete steps. “I thought you liked it when we—You’d tell me if you didn’t like it, right?”

“Well,  _yeah_ , idiot.”

Gon’s shoulders slumped. He nodded, as if Killua’s answer made perfect sense and that a momentary lapse in sanity had pushed him to the brink of tears. Gon let out a deep, shaky breath and said, “Oh. Okay, good. Remember… Remember when I told you that my love for you is different?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s sexual.”

“ _No_ , that isn’t it,” Gon laughed. Killua rolled his eyes. “It’s just that I love you  _so much_ , Killua, but with you it feels like—words aren’t enough sometimes. Sometimes I just want to  _squeeze you so hard_ and  _not let go_ . Like when you see something  _so cute_ you just want to  _smother it_ .”

“Jesus,” Killua huffed, looking away with a nervous laugh. “Don’t kill me in my sleep, dude.”

“I feel closest to not smothering you to death after you orgasm.”

“Holy shit,” Killua said, bursting out laughing. The door behind them cracked open. He slapped a hand over his mouth as Gon stared at him like he couldn’t understand why that statement wasn’t socially acceptable. 

One of Killua’s neighbors stepped out, hesitantly. Blushing like mad, Killua glanced back at them and scooted over to the side. Gon stood up and stepped aside with gentleman-like conduct. His neighbor eyed them both awkwardly as she hurried down the stairs and away from where Gon said, “I swear I’m not creepy.”

“Don’t blame me for not believing you!” she said with a goodnatured, sarcastic grin. 

Killua slapped his hand over his face and muttered, “Oy vey… You’re gonna make all the neighbors think I’m a freak.”

“That’s okay. They’ll know it eventually,” Gon said, and Killua peered between his fingers to see Gon’s cheeky-ass grin. Killua shoved him with a groan, which only made Gon giggle maniacally. “But we’ll take it slow! We’re taking things slow, I promise.”

“Yeah, right,” Killua said, unconvinced. 

Gon joined him on the step, still smiling from laughing. 

“So, um… how has the season been going?” he asked, and Gon filled him in on everything he missed that month. Everything he couldn’t watch without feeling like someone was choking him around the throat and heart. 

Gon became animated again, blowing up over the plays, the wins, the close calls, the way practice dragged on and on and  _on_ when he wasn’t on the field. Gon was soon flinging himself down the steps, arms out, explaining the last game from Denver and how Uvogin had nearly  _shattered_ someone’s leg during the start of the game. He was running up and down the lawn, mapping out the plays like Killua imagined he did during scrimmages, unable to voice it without stumbling over his words. 

It was easier for Gon to just  _show_ .

* * *

“So… you want me to  _chaperone?_ ”

Killua covered his face, cheeks and ears bright red. He looked up at where Gon had a deer-trapped-in-the-headlines look on his face when Retz rose an eyebrow at them like that. Like they were absolute  _idiots_ .

_I feel like an idiot_ , Killua thought, but for once, he didn’t feel that over getting back together with Gon. He just felt like an idiot for not trusting himself, Retz, or Gon. 

He withered internally. _Please tell me I don’t have trust issues_ , he thought, peering between his fingers at Gon.

“Just until we’re all… comfortable,” Gon said, stealing a hesitant look at Killua. 

Killua swallowed hard and hissed, “Why don’tchya @ me while you’re at it? Jesus, Gon.”

“I’m sorry! I’m just worried,” Gon insisted, waving his hands dismissively. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about!” Retz said.

“God, you’re both acting like a bunch of middle-aged women,” Killua said. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest and huffed, “And besides, you’re on house arrest.”

“Yeah, and you’re both fucking adults,” Retz said, slapping her hands to her lap. Killua blinked, startled, as Retz let out a low groan and turned away. “Aye yai yai… Here’s the deal: I’m on house arrest, but I can still use my phone. So if you…  _two_ are  _that_ worried—” Killua didn’t miss the way she looked at him, “—then just  _call me_ and leave me on speaker.”

“Yeah, okay,” Gon agreed. 

“Okay,” Retz said.

“Okay.”

“Okay, Hazel and August,” Killua said with a roll of his eyes. Retz cracked a smile. 

Retz’ phone chimed. As she looked at it, Gon turned to him with a wide smile that reminded Killua that everything  _would_ be okay, eventually. He sighed, and it lifted the tension from his shoulders. They did it. They talked to Retz without starting a fistfight. Killua wasn’t sure why he expected it to turn into a physical fight—he figured it had something to do with the way he was raised. 

Retz cursed and pocketed her phone. “Well, that’s Omo. I better get going—but, I do want to talk to you guys about one more thing.”

“Sure,” Killua said.

“How much do we want Gon talking about the other while we’re hanging out one-on-one?” Retz asked, her eyes on Killua. It took a second for Killua to gather what she meant by that. He thought about Gon’s introductory statement the other day and how it immediately had something to do with Retz’ status. He hadn’t been bothered by it, mostly because he, too, was interested in knowing how she was doing. 

“I… haven’t thought about it,” Killua confessed.

“Wait—What do you mean by that?” Gon asked.

“I mean that when I’m hanging out with you, I won’t always want you talking about Killua and vice versa,” Retz said. “I’m okay with you talking about him if it’s in the context of something that, like… isn’t romantic or sexual?”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Gon said, nodding quickly.

She instantly backtracked. “But, I mean, I love giving romantic advice!”

“Right, right,” Gon said. Killua was lost.

“So, I mean, I’d love to talk about your relationship with Killua if it has to do with, like, your dates and stuff. I find that so cute,” she said, and Gon gasped in excitement like a school girl getting ready to gossip. They hadn’t been on any dates since August, but it sounded like Gon had The Tea on that.

“Can we… not talk about this right now?” Killua sighed, fingers pinched over the bridge of his nose. 

Retz clasped her hands innocently in front of her. “Right, sorry. I’ll see  _you two nerds_ later, alright?”

“‘Kay. Bye, sweetie,” Gon said, airy and dreamy like Retz took the breath right out of him. He waved as Retz bounded off to the lecture hall doors and skipped out onto the sidewalk. 

“ _Bye, sweetie_ ,” Killua mocked, and it came out more annoyed than anything. 

Internally he groaned, because a second later, Gon was treating him like they were walking on eggshells again. “Sorry! Sorry, I won’t call her that when you’re around—”

“It— _Fuck_ , it’s fine, Gon, I really don’t care if you use pet names with her,” Killua confessed uncomfortably. Did he  _have_ to say it out loud? “I was just teasing you.”

“O-Oh,” Gon said.

Killua started towards the back of the building, towards Frat Row and Killua’s bus stop. He pushed through the back door with Gon on his heels. The moment they were outside, Killua cleared his throat and said, “Do you… think we could talk about what Retz suggested?”

“About… what I can and can’t say?” Gon said.

_God, that sounds like censorship_ , Killua thought, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably. He grimaced as he said, “Yeah, that.”

“Sure.”

He let out a relieved sigh. After a moment of studying his feet as they walked, he looked up and said, “I just… don’t want you to talk about her. At all, really.”

“O-Oh. Okay.”

“Really?” Killua droned, unconvinced. He rose an eyebrow at Gon, who was watching him with wide eyes. Gon shrugged. “Aren’t you gonna question it?”

“I’m not really in a position to negotiate this kind of stuff,” he said. 

“Of course you’re in a position. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Because I’m worried about pushing you too far with all of this. I don’t want to risk us breaking up again,” Gon explained. He let out a short huff, biting his bottom lip as he met Killua’s eyes. Killua turned away. “And—If that means not talking about Retz with you, that’s okay! I didn’t talk about her at all before, so this shouldn’t be any different! I’m okay with this.”

“O-Okay,” he said, but it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to know when Gon was hanging out with her. He imagined every moment Gon didn’t spend with him being spent with Retz, and that just wasn’t true. “But, um… could you tell me when you plan on hanging out with her? Only if it’s, like,  _right_ after we hang out. Like you’re leaving my place to go to hers or something.”

“Yeah, okay. Can I hold your hand?”

“What?” Killua said. Gon was smiling at him, and when he looked down, Gon had his hand out to him. Killua grabbed it like it was the biggest burden in the world. “Fine, I guess,” he huffed.

Their fingers laced together, and Killua blushed like never, in the eight months that they dated, had they ever  _once_ held hands. It made his chest warm and fuzzy and anything he could possibly say to comment on it turned into an incoherent mess at the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, and kept walking, dragging Gon with him as he went. 

Gon chatted about his classes as they walked to Killua’s bus stop, at which point, Gon kept walking. He jerked to a halt when he realized Killua had stopped moving. Gon pointed across the street to the frat and Killua shook his head. “Why not?” Gon asked. 

“I don’t know,” Killua said, but stood his ground. “I just want to go home. Tired, and all that.”

“Take a nap with me at my place then,” Gon said with a broad, dramatic gesture towards the frat house. He gave a little jazz-hand shake that had Killua smiling. 

_Just for a little while_ , he told himself, and said, “Fine. But then I’m going home.”

“Deal,” Gon said, and they shook on it. 

It had been a while since Killua last set foot in Sigma Alpha, but there he was, walking around the side of the building to the back entrance with his hand laced with Gon’s. At the door, Gon peered inside, looking up and down the stairwell before tugging Killua inside after him. He shut the door just as someone appeared on the first floor of the building, entering the hallway in complete line of sight of Killua and Gon holding hands in the stairwell. 

Killua met Knuckle Bine’s eyes and grimaced.  _Shit_ , he thought.

“K-Killua, what’re you—” Knuckle started, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a white tshirt. He pointed at Killua, and then at Gon. They both looked trapped. 

Gon squeaked and shoved Killua ahead, down to the basement. Killua cursed and ran as Knuckle shrieked, “What’re you two doing?!  _FREECSS!_ ” Knuckle’s footsteps thundered down the stairs after them. 

“Go, go, go!” Gon hissed, pushing Killua towards his bedroom door. Killua swung it open, slipped inside, and dragged Gon in after him. They both slammed the door in Knuckle’s face and Gon locked the handle. It certainly didn’t stop Knuckle from banging on the door, demanding, “ _Are you two back together?! TELL ME!_ ”

Gon slumped against the door, whispering, “Well, now the whole  _house_ knows…”

Killua burst into laughter. He clutched at his stomach and doubled over, cackling like a maniac until he straightened and collided with Gon. Gon had dropped his backpack in the process of latching onto Killua, his arms around Killua’s neck. They staggered towards the bed as Killua giggled because he knew for a  _fact_ that he and Gon were nothing but entertainment for the team. 

Killua landed on top of Gon, who grunted from the impact. He wiggled to the side, reclining on his side. Lying next to Gon was so familiar and, for a moment, it was like nothing ever happened between them. Killua tucked his head against Gon’s shoulder and looked down, weaseling his phone out of his pocket. He opened up his messages to Knuckle and typed out a promise to talk later about everything. For now, he was too exhausted to even mention the conditions he had made for Gon to follow. 

Gon shifted, his arm coming to rest around Killua’s torso. Killua’s breath hitched. He thought about the last time he and Gon had slept together, and how often Gon’s hand found its home on Killua’s hips, his fingers grazing Killua’s pale, naked skin. This was different, though. They were clothed, yes, but it felt somber. 

He ran his hand along Gon’s forearm and hooked his fingers around Gon’s hand on his hip. He held it there, firmly. He didn’t need to think about the future or the past right now—that was where anxiety crept in those dark corners. 

For now, it was just the two of them.

Killua sighed, his voice quiet and calm as he whispered, “What if we break up again?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Then we went through all of this trouble for nothing,” he said, shaking his head. He looked up into Gon’s concerned eyes. “I don’t want to regret giving in.”

“‘Giving in’?” Gon repeated, frowning. “Why do you have to make it sound  _bad_ .”

“Knuckle thinks this is fucking stupid,” Killua said, sighing again. He turned onto his back and put his eyes to the ceiling. “ _I_ think it’s pretty fucking stupid. That  _I’m_ stupid.”

Gon fell quiet, and after a few moments, Killua felt himself tearing up again. He blinked fast and sucked in deep, calming breaths to will the tears back. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Gon confessed. “I think… whatever I say might just be me trying to keep you here.”

“I know. That’s why you don’t have to say anything,” Killua said, voice breaking. 

“Everything you’re feeling is valid,” he said, and Killua looked at him, breath hitching. He thought he might sob again, so he pushed his face into Gon’s sturdy shoulder. “And the fact that you’re even second-guessing yourself must mean you’re pretty fucking brilliant.”

“Stop it,” Killua groaned as Gon started rubbing his back. “I mean it. I’m still mad at you.”

“So much smarter than me,” Gon hummed with a giggle as Killua groaned again, all but burying himself against Gon’s shoulder. “I mean it. I’m not gonna tell you to  _stop_ second-guessing.”

“What if I  _want_ you to, though?” Killua said. He pushed his chin up to peer at Gon’s profile, close up and personal. Gon glanced at him before looking up at the ceiling again, licking his lips as his brow furrowed. 

“Why?”

_Why_ do _I want him to stop me from doubting this?_ He supposed it was a feeble attempt at reason. “I just want someone to say that I made the right choice. Someone other than me,” he confessed, closing his eyes. 

“Well  _I_ think you made the right choice,” Gon said, haughtily, and Killua let out a snort and a laugh, pinching Gon in the side. Gon yelped and laughed as Killua wrestled him into submission, forcing him to be the human body pillow Killua wanted him to be.

* * *

“This is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of,” Kurapika said over a plate of Noods on a crisp, autumn day. 

Killua frowned as Zushi threw his arms up in triumph, screaming, “ _See?!_ I  _told_ you!” 

When Killua looked dejectedly at his pasta noodles, Zushi sighed and Kurapika said, “Now you’ve done it.”

“Look, it’s just that… I  _told_ that rat bastard to stop being a fuckboy,” Zushi said, and stressed it with a finger to the table, hissing, “I  _told_ him. And now he’s fuck-boying Killua again.”

“This is different,” Killua sighed. He put a hand through his hair and said, “ _Before_ it was, like… a bunch of nameless people on the internet! Retz is different!”

“ _How_ is she any different? Gon couldn’t say no to nameless internet people, and now he can’t say no to her,” Zushi said. 

Killua opened his mouth to argue against it, but then Kurapika was saying, “Have you seen Retz since The @ Chat?”

Killua smiled at Kurapika's title for it. He hadn't stopped thinking about Retz' suggestion that more or less censored Gon's mentions of them. “No, I haven’t,” he confessed. “And Gon doesn’t talk about her to me so I’m not sure what she’s up to.”

“Doesn’t that make you nervous?” Zushi said, raising an eyebrow. Killua rose an eyebrow back. “Paranoid?  _Suspicious?_ ” He leant forward with every word.

Killua countered by leaning in and saying, “ _No_ , it doesn’t. They’re both  _adults_ .  _I’m_ an adult. And Gon has a malfunctioning filter.”

“I don’t care if he’s honest enough. He’s still a fuckboy to me,” Zushi said, stabbing his noodles. “End of discussion.” He stuffed a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and slurped. 

Killua turned a dejected look onto Kurapika, who leant over the table with a sigh. “Neither of us are in the position to be critiquing your relationship,” Kurapika confessed, and Killua’s shoulders slumped. Critique wasn’t what he was looking for, but neither of his friends were qualified to condone his relationship. Kurapika shrugged. “Maybe you should talk to someone else that’s poly? Vet their opinion on the matter?”

“I don’t know any other poly people,” he confessed, which felt odd to him. There had to be more poly people in the world, right? It wasn’t just Gon, but it felt like this realization had hit them all upside the head from outer space. Killua didn’t quite know how to process it, especially since he was new to this entire ordeal. 

Kurapika pointed their fork at Killua and said, “Luckily for  _you_ , I know a guy.”

“A guy? What guy?” Zushi said, horrified. “I can barely stand this thrupple—don’t through a fourth into the mix.”

Killua threw his hands up and said, “Dude, I’m right here. And I’m not asking for a quad…rupple, or whatever the fuck they’re called. I just want to know how I’m  _supposed_ to act in this situation.”

Killua turned to Kurapika, who was already pulling out their phone. “So you think I could meet up with your… guy?” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kurapika said as they typed out a message and sent it off. They slapped their phone down and declared, “Now, we wait.”

They waited a total of seven and a half minutes before Kurapika’s phone dinged in the middle of the table. Killua’s appetite was gone, the energy inside him bubbling and steaming over. It popped the instant he read the message off of Kurapika’s phone. 

A resounding  _yes_ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE! Also, [I have a weird meme-ish Tumblr now based off of my fics??](https://killugon-memes.tumblr.com/) I guess?? Memes courtesy of the Discord lol


End file.
